One fine morning, as the sun looked swell
A bunch of kids decided to head to a newfound beach
Enamoured by sea and sand
They chose to accompany the sun and the moon there
They tested the sand, mixed in some water to hold
Resumed the moulding and holding
The sand together
They kept the turtles at bay
And flicked away any baby ***** that showed up to claim their homeland
They shot the black birds that came to rest by the castle
For this beauty was theirs to relish alone
Some doves were entertained with food,
But no menace tolerated
Except for that of these blond brats
Yet, the day seemed swell
And fair
Then came a boy, big and bullyrag
Who twitched, punched, threw a tantrum
For this was his playground
He seeked power, and have it he shall
Just like every rowdy, stubborn, spoilt kid
And when rebellion surfaced, he stomped
Killed the *****, and turtle blood spill
The boys left aghast, he messed up America
Or did he...alone?

Lift up your eyes and see
You are correct to deeply fear.
Worse than all history
It’s gonna be a bad year.

The GOP has changed DC,
Now it stands for Demented Congressmen.
Federal Secretaries can barely spell!
It will take decades to fix this again.

Hide in your house and pray
Ignoring all the threatening signs.
Pay no attention to the news,
Everything will turn out just fine.

Who needs their civil rights?
Just pay your taxes and be quiet.
No one in Washington
Hears your opinion, they don’t buy it.

The whole show is bribes, so
If you’re a multi billionaire
And pay the right people,
Some one in Congress will care.

Remember the actual rules,
The important thing in politics
Is  stay in office for life
Even if they have to use tricks.

Being a statesman today
Doesn’t mean a thing any more
Because the voters
Don’t really care to keep score.

They raise lots of handy cash
And buy the most successful publicist
Then they have the people
Crushed in their grubby little fists.

Wutsa matter wit you?
Whirr you frumm?
You from summ furren country?
Cain’t you tawk better den at?
Murruhkunz doan tawk Inglush lie cat.
We talk good Inglush. We tawk da bess Inglush.
Ain’t nobody tawk better den us.
Irregardless of whut kine uh furriner you are
You could not tawk so ignernt.
It’s a insult tah good Murrukuhns tawkin lie cat.
You should be imburrst to tawk ataway in public.
Should be ashaymt uh yerself.

Yenno, peepo c’n perject thur ignernce
’N thur lack intelluhgunce so easy.
They jess open up thur mouths
’N let the dumbness fall out
’N thur it is, fer alll to see.
Yude thank they’d realize what dumshits they are
’N not let thur mouths write checks
Thur butts cain’t cover.
But, no. They’s flappin’ thur yaps an babblin’
‘Bout nothin’ at all, ’n actin’ the pure fool
Lack thur mamas din teach them nuthin.
Well, nuthin’ good, at lease.
Me, muhseff, I thank sumbuddy
Shoulda kicked thur butts
From here ta Sundee.

But, thass jess me.
I know thurs a buncha bleedin’ heart libralls out thur
That wanna let peepo get by with crap jess ‘cause
Sumbuddy is a Niger er ‘cause they’s Messcun
Er sum kinda ******* heathen er ‘sump’n,
But I thank thass jess wrong.
Peepo gotta talk good jess to respeck the flag
’N God n’ country. Or go home.
Yeah, go on back to whatever Godless place
You ’n your race ’n yer ideas is okay.
We rilly doan need ‘em here.
We’s good, God fearing’ peepo and hard working too.
So, if that ain’t you, *** on yer camel ’n ride
Back tah whurever you cumm frumm
Till you c’n tawk good Iinglush lack decent fokes.

Have you noticed lately?
How people diss everything big and small
Things they cannot relate with
Things they cannot comprehend
As if, the onus lies on others - people and things
To be self-explanatory, to spoon feed
As if, a mystery should as though unravel itself
As if, we have no part to play here
As if, everything is for us to enjoy
But never to be pursued
As if, life should come easy,
And everything in it, everything that comes with it
As if, death too, should come easy
And maybe this makes sense to everyone
This fashion of thought
Maybe I'm the only one who cannot fathom
The depths of stupidity in thinking so
Maybe, I cannot relate
To the ways of the world
It's a strange world,
As if, the onus of becoming comprehensible
Is on the world...

Christ, religious people are boring,
Just like the nutsos in the street.
Half the time they start me snoring
So I run away in abject defeat,
Because reason can’t get through
A wall of defensive superstition
Which gives us back nothing but
Mumbo jumbo to every question.

If the neighborhood catches fire
It is only but a holy God’s will.
(It would be great we victims had
A place we could send God the bill.)
When innocent children die off
Is that what a loving God wanted?
That "God sees the sparrow" stuff
Gets rather quickly blunted.

What kind of wrathful *******
Lets genocide have a field day
And doesn’t make widespread disasters
Permanently dry up and go away?
If God created all of us people
In his own best saintly image,
He sure must be an ugly sod who
Needs to go back to scrimmage.

If a country had a dictator
As capriciously vicious as him
It would surely trigger worldwide
A call for a God with better whims.
For thousands of years now, it seems
People have been issuing prayers
To some kind of entity at large
That is constantly taking us nowhere.

Maybe it is exactly as possible
That this whole show is erroneous
And the big guy on a cloud is fiction
Made up out of fear and just bogus?
Isn’t this just some cave-dweller dream
To explain what folks found frightening?
Should we be running our world today
By ideas of folks afraid of lightning?

Raymond was strapped in grade four.
Reportedly told a kid to *******.
True heresay.
This happened a while ago.
He could'a been stood against the board,
With his nose in a circle for thirty minutes.
(Lines were always a waste of everyone's time)
Could'a stood him at the back for the morning,
Or out in the hall, or suspended,
Later expelled.
He could'a been fired and unemployed,
******* and unsocial,
And, again, later, crooked.
True heresy.
Then we tell him to *******,
Which we should've done first,
And left it at that.

Bounty of slaves,
working for none.
Cultures lie,
there with their gun.
Black-out a burn out,
a penance to come?
Cancel out,
the light of the sun;
'Apo-ca-lyptic'
      Dragon

Two perched on-high,
they watch the streets...
Places where Man
and Devil's meet.
War drums begin,
laying their beat.
Who is going
-to save all the meek?

Woman she comes,
starry-crown, starry eyes!
Stands as a calf
in her disguise.
Birth a Messiah,
in waters unbound.
Arise as a Beast,
disciples confound?
Symbol in mind's
all to subvert...
God now a serpent
religion's convert.

Death To Us All!
And Death To The Light!
A Christmas Revelation,
War and Death Do Delight!

~Evan

What are you,
All you foolish humans
That **** each other
Everywhere, every year?
What good is it,
All your mad efforts
That you live and die
To generate hopeless fear?

What have you done
All you foolish humans
That live by rules
But not by laws for peace?
Where is the pride
In what you create
In all your short, sad lives
If the genocide will never cease?

What of the children
Insane selfish humans
That go to sleep
Perhaps never to wake again?
Who in the world
Which of our fellow humans
Can we put our trust upon
If it is not the most powerful men?

What is learned
With your **** and pillage.
Are you much better
Counting up your evil rewards?
Now you have murdered
Robbed and imprisoned
All those who live by the plow
Laughed at by those with swords.

We are the fools
If we think might is right,
That strength is shown
By money in the pocketbook.
We only need to
To take a simple body count;
To slow our greedy rush, and
Take the time to take a second look.

As for me, I chose the alternatives
To do what is right without the superlatives,
To love people without any threat
A choice too many have not made yet.
A loving but jealous and wrathful god?
Even those words put together sound odd.
If this omnipotence were on the level
Why not smite the heck out of the devil?

I never understood that stuff about Eden.
Why have just one tree off limits even?
To people who were basically children
Why was part of paradise ever forbidden?
Any parent will tell you about their kids
They would do exactly as those two did.
You couldn’t keep them away with a truncheon.
Those kids would have a ****** luncheon.

Oh, and what a self-righteous creep was He
To do what what he did to Job endlessly.
It has always sounded evil torture to me;
The work of a cloud-bound twisted bully.
Then for no reason anybody could ever tell
He created a son and then cast him into hell.
He let the Devil make a punching bag of Jesus.
This God creature seems to do what he pleases.

So what about this legend is so wonderful
That we heap money on priests by the basketful?
We create huge bejeweled palaces everywhere
And insist they are houses of God and swear
To visit them will make us all godly creatures.
Yet we demand no solid proof of those teachers.
If a car salesman delivered like that on a promise,
We’d take him out to and pound him into pumice.

Religion can be somewhat stygian
Often is as a matter of fact.
It isn’t all fluffy clouds and saints.
Like in their published tracts.
Not all of the promises made
Will ever come true for you.
The miracles they talk about
Are they facts? Very danged few.

Wail and sing hosanas
Hail to the golden calf.
How to tell who’s bananas?
Separate wheat from chaff?
Give lots of money to churches
Buy many more holy chalices.
We are such a poor country
With far two few golden palaces.

Remember all Christians are holy
No matter the evil they may do.
They just confess it on Sunday
And then they are better than you.
And even though Muslims all came
From the same book up to a point,
They are all heathens and hell bound
No righteous forehead to anoint.

Wail and sing hosanas
Hail to the golden calf.
How to tell who’s bananas?
Separate wheat from chaff?
Give lots of money to churches
Buy many more holy chalices.
We are such a poor country
With far two few golden palaces.

Nobody gets to go to heaven
Unless they are from the right church.
Anyone not in that category will,
The day of atonement, be left in the lurch.
Remember their god is wrathful
And will drown all your children for sure.
So, unless you are “washed in the blood”
You’re going to hell. There’s no cure.

Wail and sing hosanas
Hail to the golden calf.
How to tell who’s bananas?
Separate wheat from chaff?
Give lots of money to churches
Buy many more holy chalices.
We are such a poor country
With far two few golden palaces.