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
