The Karens and their eunuchs
all hail in unholy communion in shallow crypts
incanting the ethos of their graceless union
Thou shalt not live with Truth

From the Hopeless Hospice of Dumb minds
the Red ***** toss deader ideas
and escape to join the craven march
of Limeys preaching for their birth rights

The Fagin's Alchemist dost announced
that yonder Moor has taken our riches
Toy town is awakened the Reds are on keystone duties
flying monkeys everywhere hunting for alchemists' fools gold

We shall do his head in and **** him up
Karens  ****** of deceits and bitter angsts all frothing in slime
baying mudslingers with deadly aims in frenzied *******
in wanton throes they relive memories of the thrusts of Moor's sword

Tis the season of deer stalking and the Fools Ball
madness has freely poured all a heady toxic brew so drink till drunk
the pale oracle sees broken heart pain suffering and a broken Moor
and
we all wonder why the Managers of the Top three English footy Teams are all Foreigners