His father was a lawyer Mother a psychologist He was just a boy who liked to torture bugs When they'd go out to work He'd go out to play With pockets full of weapons Bugs you'd better stay out of my way He'd say There's no love, no understanding I just torture the bugs It's survival of the fittest And torture for the winner He liked to get in garbage cans And capture little bugs And burn them with a magnifying glass After he pulled off their wings His father did not think it right To pick apart helpless things And his mother did not understand How he could be so unfeeling He'd say There's no love, no understanding I just torture the bugs It's survival of the fittest And torture for the winner