Come with a handful of that stuff you call mojo
Priceless and ever in demand
Crime rises in it's lack
and spam rises in it's abundance grand
Hero's use it for makeup
coating their yoghurt faces
tears stuck up there in the cheekbones
pressurized and ambitious drops
A grass butcher shouts guttural bloody woe
asking if you would like a slice of that sweet fat mojo
But blood seeks us out hunts us down burns us to ash
Like a demon among us exterminating compassion
The world a fat lil boy who was so spoiled
he went bald and deaf at puberty royal
In another life an energetic wildiling insane
needing not even a womb to be born again
And mojo up on the supermarket shelf
what's it going for these days do you know?
a few minutes for a year of health?
Mojo could you afford me a kilo?
I need some for my guilty yoghurt face
A pound of flesh a few footsteps to keep pace
A portion of bloody pure unrefined mojo
So I can repeat my messy moves out of the dojo
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