The withering serpent puts out his cigar with a scoff and sneer below his frigid exhalation

Its embers dance overhead (its embers dance over head) his polished boots,

As his yearning parade bubbles: for a xenophobic nation

He puts his hungry wolves upon leashes

They choke as they sniff out racial agendas under the boiling sun

For shackling the blameless men and women in unroofed reformatories is priority number one

He releases his soldiers under his command racing to feast on anyone who criticizes his work

He puts his hungry wolves upon leashes

They choke as they sniff out racial agendas under the boiling sun

As un-violent inmates die in rotting cages, giving the man nothing more than a smirk

After years of waiting, nothing has changed. he spits a cesspool of deception

A leader? a hero? a territorial martyr? more or a less an enormous misconception

The withering serpent puts out his cigar with a scoff and sneer below his frigid exhalation

After years of waiting, nothing has changed. he spits a cesspool of deception

A leader? a hero? a territorial martyr? more or a less an enormous misconception