Puffed to the brim with inane pride,
You strut about like a sparkling bride,
Displaying invulnerabilities that sting
Sharper than wild porcupinish being.
You fathom neither humanity
Nor harm of your callous inanity;
You ever frolic and chest-thump
And mock and onwards trump.
You’re aided by bloody malice
Of hell ever bereft of peace,
And abetted by the unhearing
Of heaven amid ills so searing.
So how long shall you trample,
You unfeeling impish trampler?
And dole out such endless trouble,
You most callous restless troubler?
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