Even in numbers they still flounder
seeking solace in gainsay ventriloquisms'
the puppets of absent mothers and fathers
now raking jingles for scroungers and bandits
looking for spurs to ride mice at the tournaments
hosting the regalia of the unwashed in whispered cabals
while shivering in the smite igloos of icy hot snow blindness

Power doth not stay hidden in shame
to voice the talk is walking the walk in light
to carry a lion heart means to face the lion and duel
know sweet point of the ****** means to know your aim
thousand arrows of twigs are banes of dishonourable hunts men
in lemmings fare the language of scrawling hordes is but saps' gabble
revealing from within  toneless rendition of admiration guised in fear

Show me the brave peasants with guts
attested and ready to stand the barricades fronts
not ****** snivelling hicks with brambles hiding in hedges
alas in years of heaves and bumps its recreants and fools on watch
drunk on sour mead with brains in broth gurning madly like witches
casting spells with fish and chips talking of see-saws like kids at fairs
laughable limpets off-springs of hay-gatherers never to amount to much
if conviction in truth is affray then man posts and lance with honour and truth