Sunday bells, ding dong, 
Music rang along 
Peaceful times that we
Recall now

Raving know-alls subvert free men’s law,
Kind embraces turn red in the claw – 

Like you and your cronies, claiming heap and hill
Until we help you come down
And I will, I will, I will!

Down the road and ‘round the globe good souls
Build up reason’s wall.
What your own jealous ideas ignore:
It protects us all!

Your corrosive charms
Blight brains and arms.
Coining certitude 
From weak ore 

You’re the con in the conciliation
You’re the fire in the fire station.

Bad news for those you once told you
Valued love, fairness and virtue.
Had they but known,
Had you but shown
Your zealot’s aim,
Your claim to shame!

Commonsense defies
Your inbred lies.
No delusions now
Nor denial:

On your pedestal you’ve turned to stone, 
Bloodless veins starved of meaning once known, 

And numb to the tremors spelling your downfall,
Your tall tales coming to nil, 
For what’s built on sand won’t stand – 
And I will, I will, I will!

© Helmut Hauke / helmuthauke.com