A ***** allergy to cast me out of Hell
A sneezing like coming from the brain
Nine times in a row as I left her in the snow
For something I'd lost
A long, long time ago.

The girl was sick and pregnant; sweating and sore
Her doctor was a humble, kindly man
He often drew on marijuana
Left her on the table
And left God to decide
Upon the sinews to reveal
Better not to propagate the table
Not to operate.

The swindler has a most convincing way
With your children well before they're born
He's in your pocket before your first *******
Bleeds your first wife's last abortion.

And sings on high it's time to fly
Time to leave the foster mother's frigid icy nips
Write off your wan crapulous ten year plan
Tom no more like tigers on the tactile plain
But join the orphanage in its raw and biting pain

Time to go back to a savage civility
That crucifies the sane with kid gloves and contempt
Chanting bold and blasphemous and oh, so democratic!
When Christ was always my dictator