My words are a whisper, your deafness a shout.
In your pomp and all your glory, you're a poorer man than me.
The excrement bubbles, the century slime decays, and the brainwashing government lackeys would have us say it's under control.
Too many temples where we could worship the beast.
A sweetly scented angel fell, she laid her head upon my disbelief, and battled with me with her ever smile.
Be sure to leave your underpants with someone you can trust.