And how many given license to grieve?
A fiery rain of talking points,
A toady rain of "I believe."
Death be not proud,
But whining self-righteous
And rhetoric loud,
which always incites us
Against the sinful infidel,
Global trade (the road to hell,)
Sexism, racism, the wedding bell
For gays and groups (you can never tell)
And unemployment, and ignorance,
Elitist snobs and common sense.
Tell me now, get off the fence!
If I want to make a difference:
If the justest cause mightn't be
A Global War on Piety.
(If in all these words you hear your call
You'll be the first against the wall.)
CANNONADE, v.t. To broadcast angels, knights of the faith and holy writ in their round and leaden form.
The cannonade and hanging tree
Are both too good for you and me.