Don't it ever make you crazy

Don't it ever get you mad

When your boss says you're lazy

And your lover treats you bad

Don't it make you kind of crazy

Don't it make you kind of ill

If you don't get no satisfaction

By and by you're gonna kill

When your bloodlust gets excited, and you're drooling on the floor

You burn your head and feet, you're getting thrown out the door

When your bloodlust gets excited, don't you see there's no relief

Once you eat you all the taste, you gotta fill up your face with big meat

Take it away, Mark

You know people, sometimes life just gets to be too much. And you've got to do something, something extreme to make it all right again. Cause you're feeling mean and ugly inside, and you've got to let it out. You want to put your foot through the TV, you're so fucking pissed. But civilized folks, just don't do that sort of thing. Out in the suburbs, we handle things differently. We've got to be refined and subtle, set an example for all the poor shit. We got pills and coke and liquor and doctors. But sometimes, sometimes you get to kill for satisfaction. Not even Dune's Pill Zone. So you do the next best thing. You hop in the Vega and head down to them two yellow plastic arches and you say to the honey behind the glass, you say: "BIG BEEF, LAY IT ON ME" and she gives it to you, right there on the counter. You've been getting all hot and itchy because you've been hungry for blood so long. And when you stick that meaty mother in your mouth, right between the buns, you almost have an accident. It tastes so good

Wouldn't life be scary without a bite of that hairy big beef? Wouldn't life be too much without the crunch of big beef?