It was a lovely New York morning and the sun in the sky was brightly shining
When, from up above in the clouds we all heard a metallic noisy whining,
And we looked up into the air to see a large silver aircraft a-flying by,
And the sun was glinting off its fuselage as it flew right swiftly through the sky.

My adventurous resolve to tour that lovely area
Of the USA amusingly known as Jesusland
Was prompted by the classy Jerry Springer Show
And the sophisticated guests I have seen thereon:
Who can forget those KKK wizards and fierce rednecks
Fighting to preserve their ancestral way of life?
Not I! And how I have longed to visit the Old South
To see its colonial mansions and graceful towns,
Albeit preferably behind bullet-proof glass,
For safety's sake..

I
Onward, Zionist soldiers,
marching as to war,
With the star of David
going on before!

US, their wealthy Master,
has sent you lots of dough;
Whizzing through the night sky,
watch your missiles go!

Refrain:
Onward, Zionist soldiers,
marching as to war,
With the star of David
mopping up the gore.

II
At the sound of battle
Zion’s host doth flee;
On then, Hizbullah heroes,
on to Vic-tor-ree.

I recall Halcyon Days, hot nights in Morocco
With a nice girl I once met in the Souk;
Blasted by the warm winds of the Sirocco
I can still hear her loud screams when we'd fouk.

In long gone olden days, Christians used to scourge themselves
And crawl around desperately on bloodied knees to prove their faith
Or they'd fast and not eat their four square meals (plus snacks) a day
But there's no need for that nowadays; self-denial is so 20th century.

Have you ever thought of a tear falling to the ground, have you thought of a world without any warmth, touch, or feeling? I’m sure many people have but the truth is nobody converses with another human soul, in recent days, times, centuries people have never experienced feeling unless they are hurt because nobody is ever truly joyful they are too fake. The tears you feel when you cry is one of the only human things on this planet we call Earth.

What a sad and sickening world it is we live in:
Poor, degraded Britain, a land full of
Violent, adulterous, hypocritical slobs
Not sufficiently educated to hold down a job
In the face of a rival bricklayer
From Poland or Lithuania,

Brutal is the play today
a game to those of fury.
With centers lost at others costs.
Now self denied and buried.

I had my chance to make a stance
But turned a blinded cheek.
I could have mattered but silenced the chatter,
Which served to make me weak.

Again today another lays
stiff a top the ground.
I closed my eyes when I heard cries.
Now not another sound.

I breathe alone in twisted zones
and still I wonder why.
I did not do a thing for you,
before it went awry.

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About three heartbeats ago,
from a geologic time view point,
we traced our steps to how the earth did grow,
gulping every story though some appear disjoint.
We adopted a meandering river flow,
as we moved from one, to the next joint.
Was the trip disappointing? No!
Like one sitting on a score board, it was on point.