He bursts in through the door Most would have opened it first But they're all the same These radical fundamentalists Standing alone and angry Like blistered thumbs
Each sulphurous quotation Boomed with idiotic solemnity And such slobbering enthusiasm Such glassy eyed acceptance For every steaming edict
He insistently invades you Because he needs to persuade you And he longs so much to save you Poking prodding and nagging Pulpit punching and finger wagging 'Till your will to live is sagging
"I know and you don't ! I'm right and you're wrong ! You have to listen to me ! I am the man with a plan ! When others can't, I can ! "
So, I ponder this man with interest His certainty speaks loud and clear It speaks of making dreams reality And delusional hopes that really can be But most of all it speaks to me Of an utter pile of ****