(Spoken) This next record is dedicated to some very close friends of mine, the locusts. For every locust that has destroyed a farmer's corn fields, wrecked his soybean patch, or ruined his wheat harvest, I'd like to take a swarm of them out to my silo and dump them in a huge vat of benzene hexachloride.

CROP KILLER!
I got some pesticide.
I got insecticide.
I'm gonna make 'em fry.
Just want to watch 'em die.
I got two twelve inch spray guns.
They're filled with hydrocarbons.
Got two acres of onions.
Gonna teach 'em a lesson.

Chorus:

(Sound of spray gun - "Ffsssstttt! Ffsssstttt! Ffsssstttt!")

CROP KILLER, nothin' growin' but weeds.
CROP KILLER, I'm gonna have to reseed.
CROP KILLER, I know the corn needs reapin' - - SHUCK 'EM! -
CROP KILLER, but tonight we get even.
CROP KILLER!(repeat)