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
