I drew up back when Mr. Skate came back from the attack

The official fag saw the cake tossed into the lake

And he crossed that lake with his overpaid army

Of rats and snakes on whiskey ships

And they are right, they were alive

They were fools, making rules

For their entrance into the butchery pools

Let them be and that's the lesson

An overworked dreamer and his cronies

On minitracks and motorbikes

And a contest featuring human beings

And other less sprouts

And other less sprouts