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Creeping administration slithers along,
The fascist past comes back...
The winged-devil fiddling his song,
For the corporations are his attack!

And even though they know it is wrong,
The greedy-ones will never turn back.
Risking all with the angering throng,
Congress tightens the noose with their acts!

That dark orchestra revolution in the night,
A sweet attar-tune their honey.
And no one best stand up to their might,
When they're all lechering for money!

— The End —