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The row at Toolys
Sat Jan 22, 2011 03:47


Shout! Shout! then shout some more,
as men strive to settle score,
two faced Tooly elbows in,
departing from his rubbish bin.

Claiming style, panache, dash,
then churning out ambiguous trash,
creeping round the flock,
holy spirits his selling stock.

Two thousand years of hope, pray,
murder, mayhem, kill, slay,
silken dalliance the elders wear,
as choir boys bottoms they lay bare.

Tooly belongs to this two faced lot,
mature minds would have them shot,
Inquisition, burn, tears,
millions slaughtered o'er the years.

Believe in god or thou shall die,
he gives the orders from on high,
ask the Pope's his reps on earth.
human psyche arrested at birth. 2003

Johnb Šjobee

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