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Thunderhog

from Bummer City's Best Lawn by La Chancla

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lyrics

A storm brewed in the depths of the woods
Influx of demand and Chromeo goods
Out of the moss grew a beast made of light
Motherboard brains in a body of fright
Composed of the raging keystrokes sent,
"Well I never" 's and revenge, hellbent!
Ominous gizmos and the clicking of gears
Socialized tech skin and mechanized fears!

The rumble of thunder, the tumble inside
As hot air expands past online bon-a-fides
Microchip hymns sing to the whir of his humming
Frenetic tones and incessant drumming
The image of a beast, to sell and trade,
Thunderhog, Tech god, with teeth made of blades
Should he arise from the tumultuous crash
Possess those, he will, with foul, spitting trash

And Lo! Through the fog, a shape draws near!

The rumble of thunder, the tumble inside
As hot air expands past online bon-a-fides
Microchip hymns sing to the whir of his humming
Frenetic tones and incessant drumming
The image of a beast, to sell and trade,
Thunderhog, Tech god, with teeth made of blades
Should he arise from the tumultuous crash
Possess those, he will, with foul, spitting trash

Run from the tow'rs, if you have an ear to hear!

Thunderhog, [Thunderhog] in the night,
Thunderhog, Thunderhog burning bright
A threat in it's mouth and a flame in its mind
Thunderhog, Thunderhog, it's almost time!


And it rose from the depths of the fog as hot breath curled up from it's snout!
Not a gasp could I make, though it's very sight demanded a litany of shouts!
With an eye gleam, it spied me and I was frozen like a good boy should freeze, when he sees such a beast!

The Four Horsemen of the Techno-pocalypse ride!
Out of the Cloud and into a blueprint copyright sky!
Sell your privacy for a glutton-feast of ad-driven opiate foods:
Living in a death-cocoon with rippling hunchback wounds!

Beware of this beast, lest your soul, it corrupt.
And end to our dreams, death abrupt!

credits

from Bummer City's Best Lawn, released March 5, 2019

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La Chancla Kansas City, Missouri

Out they came, from a pile of radioactive ooze, mutated through the ages to the tune of halcyon humming and the aural auras of intergalactic crickets, and rising now, instruments of cosmic tomfoolery in hand... La Chancla!

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