Jungle Rot

burning, it's in the air
smoke of the machine
gives you the notion to
get lost or get dead
plowing through the trees
body spattered tank
goring and maiming all
people in the way
come on and stop me
a rolling death machine
you can't stop me
structure of steel and blood
hanging from the rusty chains
the parts of the dead
swinging in the cool breeze
dripping pools of blood