The Censorship decides for you.
It pre-emptively gives you the eyes of a boy;
A boy who is done with his *******.
When those sweetly unclean pleasure swings
turn to simple actions in all clarity.
It makes that denied apple rot backwards
and in some cases rise to the tree above reach.
Lest you forget we made the wrong choice once before.
So you fall to the fiery shame of the nation
as where procreation surely belongs;
to the maelstrom of breathing sins
And good company.
Where never the G word is uttered
to enter your head.

But to those who like to hear dangerously
I give the public
The last letters of the last four lines to you
Before censorship has completely won
For any reader who wants to hear it.