Living in a world that snobs
Is as painful as scorpion's sting
As I make random motions
I see more booings
Greeted with bruises
No **** not even an harry
Sees how I weep in isolation
But all shall cling to me in limelight

Shushed until now
Respecter of no status
Not even the blue bloods
Even men of timber and caliber shivers
Ha! Uncle Sam trembles at thy blow

What a time for the atheist
To raise both hands skyward
A time to trust the unknown
In the hands of the one
Made known by nature

On a rickety table
With battles of syllables
There was a scramble
Where cradle turns rumble

Wants insa-ti-able
Yet we're able
Able to disable
Every evil cable

Enough of this national gamble
The people are in shambles
With trailers of grumbles
For mountains of fumbles
May we not utterly stumble
For the flow stinks like a stable