into the greedy maw of the 
mob you’ve falsely licensed

to shudder and bring about the 
rule of the despicable tyrant

glassy-eyed quickstepping
his ugly horde stumbling

at the edge of the fray 
where the glamour of truth

has been forced to flee
before his sad praetorians

quickstepping galloping down 
the lovely streets of our town

begone thou foul demon
leave before one more drop 

of our sacred blood
greases your pitiless path

for the gates to nowhere
have yawed open and wait

your leaden tread 
to the fires of eternity