On Your Left (You'll Notice Bugs Taking Over the World)

Among the special guests are Horkmeijer Springtail and his lovely choir of snow fleas providing backing vocals, the corpse of Jeff LaSala (as animated by six thousand yellow jackets and a colony of Africanized honey bees) providing additional vocals, and the corpse of Joshua Wentz (as animated by one oversized house centipede and the lightening-quick Fifty-First Silverfish Battalion) provide synths, programming, and actual composition.

We are the bugs–are the bugs taking over the world,
wings unfurled, on the march, starting this March.
We are the bugs in the rugs and we’re coming to your town.
Turn that frown upside down, then twist it around ‘cause
we are the bugs giving hugs, and we’ll crush your spine so
you cannot walk, cannot talk; just lie still and watch
the bugs selling drugs to your kids, then we use the profits
to fund the cause, without pause; that’s just who we are!
We are the bugs (not sea slugs!) crawling into your mouth,
heading south for total war, just like William Sherman.

Here come the bugs come the bugs come the bugs come the bugs…

I am the fiddler beetle just outside your door.
I will fiddle day and night till you cry, “please no more!”
I am a stink bug. I’ll trap you in a room.
See how long you can hold your breath until you meet your doom!
I am the walking stick. I’m hiding in your tree–
a pointed stick, mind you; feel that jab? That’s me!
I am the tiger moth circling your lamps.
Now hold just a moment while the synthesizer vamps.

We are the bugs–are the bugs taking over the world,
wings unfurled, on the march, starting this March.
We are the bugs in the rugs and we’re coming to your town.
Turn that frown upside down, then twist it around ‘cause
we are the bugs giving hugs, and we’ll crush your spine so
you cannot walk, cannot talk; just lie still and watch
the bugs selling drugs to your kids, then we use the profits
to fund the cause, without pause; that’s just who we are!

We’re grasshoppers hopping through your grass.
First a chirp, then a slurp, then we eat you all en masse!

I’m a praying mantis, alien, cool and green.
I’ll chew your vital organs out, especially your spleen.

While I’m a moss mantid, not the “praying” kind.
Agitation, not salvation, your happiness maligned.

We are the ants crawling down your pants.
Now, dance, dance, dance while the cheering crowd chants,
“Ha ha ha ha! Ants in your pants, ants in your pants!
“Ha ha ha ha! Ants in your pants, ants in your pants!
“Ha ha ha ha! Ants in your pants, ants in your pants!
“Ha ha ha ha! Ants in your pants, ants in your pants!”

Here come the bugs come the bugs come the bugs come the
Here come the bugs come the bugs come the bugs come the
Here come the bugs come the bugs come the bugs come the
Here come the bugs come the bugs come the bugs come the bugs.

I am a damselfly; won’t you rescue me?
But when you get here, dragonfly and I will make you flee!

I am a fire ant; an arsonist am I.
Conflagration, immolation, hot, hot, hot; oh my!

I am an orb weaver, spider seer of might.
In my web you’ll lay entwined before the killing bite.

We are the bugs–are the bugs taking over the world,
wings unfurled, on the march, starting this March.
We are the bugs in the rugs and we’re coming to your town.
Turn that frown upside down, then twist it around ‘cause
we are the bugs giving hugs, and we’ll crush your spine so
you cannot walk, cannot talk; just lie still and watch
the bugs selling drugs to your kids, then we use the profits
to fund the cause, without pause; that’s just who we are!
We are the bugs (not sea slugs!) crawling into your mouth,
heading south for total war, just like William Sherman.
Here come the bugs come the bugs come the bugs come the bugs…