With hands on her hips,
      Sosibios held court for
               the jesters.

    What bringeth you here!
     why hast thou pursued
           us to Marathon?

      Athenians shall never
     part their legs or *****
    themselves for rationing.

    Goeth back across your
      swollen Danube to the
        lair of IMFomaniacs.

      The blood of Drachma
   will be your indelible stain-
       "Parasites of Poverty".

   Our Grecian Urn contains
  the ashes of Démos Kratös
  and not the wings of Icarus!

  If the Irish Phoenix could be
      fanned, by a wind that
            shook the barley,

   A rising of the moon will be
but a metaphor, when our 300
men and 3 men, stand together!