Screech owls, bringing their lying to the light
They are the rejected dregs of their fathers lineage!
These venomous worms will suck marrow from bone
They are a brood of vipers and impious, evil sluts.
Poll-parrots shriek themselves hoarse with senseless words,
Masses muddle along after money-grubbing scoundrels,
And from their midst bleeds out a vapid, unjust morality,
Men stand riddled with religious canker-worms.
What has restrained the lap-dogs called men?
That are fed with crumbs flung from their tables.
Crucify them! Crucify them! The fat is in the fire,
They are made of dirt and to dirt they shall return.
Oh, what poor maggots lament before God?
Religion, a mockery, acting as if men were fools,
I am the flesh crying that they are nothing,
But their ears are shut, they cannot listen.
