When released from Limbo on parole,
I will not demand anything greater
Than to have, for my immortal soul,
A re-birth inside the lowest traitor
Let him be at large to lie and steal,
Let a crow be called a hunting raptor
Let him thrive, expecting nothing ill,
While misfortune strikes before and after
Let him grab a more than humble pie
Let him swell with fondness and good reason,
Feeding on Establishment’s supply
Of good old Establishmental treason.
Every day his life will seem more blessed,
Then, out of nowhere, one fine morning,
My despair will rise inside his chest
And will choke the bitch, without a warning.