For there are simply those
Who drool to build walls,
Who prey upon our fears,
And who darken our halls
With this sheer madness.
As they stand so insecure,
In contempt, but so aloof,
We remain the opposition
With facts and with proof
Of their sheer madness.
There comes a fateful day
When this vile bluster dries,
And blows away in the gales
Like a repugnant halo of flies
Above this sheer madness.
But as for now, it is the hour
That the madness draws nigh.