It's like a fire in my head:
one cannot fight all that is said.
The truth, once stated, there it ends,
but lies go on after truth mends.
At some point, reason's had its turn;
it's time for heretics to burn.
For every innocence undone,
a fair answer comes from a gun.
The hands which dicks and balls remove,
we might by guillotines improve,
and he who chops off little tits,
might best be chopped in little bits.
Yet madness, madness breeds,
and bloodshed, bloodshed seeds.
Insanity drives men insane,
and I'm not sure of my own brain.
If all received their just deserts,
then none would reach heaven's outskirts.
Whatever's right, whatever's wrong,
this state of things cannot last long.
Tale Told 