Drowning in dog stew and strangled in vine. Blister wine Burns the inside... (they flew in a line over poppy fields. They'd drop and they'd blast their supply. On demand! They persist. They pervert. they command: "red alert." And green burns to yellow, to orange, to dirt covered Baby bones in powder piles. Aile after mile. and a Line costs a dime. Y slaughter's a quarter. yes, the Green god's immortal, whispers "peace in our time." red alert! Here come the green gang....