Saboteurs In Seasons

Year in, year out you come
In great delusion, an epic interest
Packed in vans of delusive saboteurs,
With pledges, both milk and in honeycomb
And yet a dozen child is laid in catacomb.
Sugar-coated Satan sandwich of usurpation
Never preach same old sermon of hustings
Never stretch your bag of gew-gaws
You ingrate of treasonable worth
Leaving kinsmen in blackouts of lasting eina
As you enjoy your race of demagogue
Every season, year in, year out

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