The fork is a cold shiny tool
To pierce, tear and ingest
Whatever has the fork in hand
Controls the meal of its choice

We're told the first few punctures
They're for our own good
Better chewed up in pieces
Than blown up in the oven

Forkboy (x3)

Forkboy flies by night on stolen fuel
To Santa Rosa, CA
Opens a fake employment office
Want a job, go get me drugs

People desperate for work
Return to quite a surprise
Busted for intent to sell
Cops pay him a bounty
Forkboy skips town

We came, we peed
We conquered, you bleed

The choice
Forkboy
Or finger food

Ugly joy
What does it replace
Why wait, when you can
Eat yourself alive today

Forkboy (x3)

Junk bondage takeover glutton
Ready to bore in
Unfold his rotary blades inside
Pull the guts out and resell them

Buys out his next target
With the last one's pension funds
Thousands more thrown out of work
So Leona won't have to settle for a mint

Forkboy
Picked by the FBI
To be the black pied piper
After Dr. King died

Watches soap operas on TV
While six billion disappears from H.U.D.
Who are you working for
What did you hope to gain

Why do you hate your past
So much you destroy
The ones you love

Forkboy (x3)