Tired of the coil

The rattle of the cage

I pace like a panther

It’s no surprise

Give us the freedom

To be dumb

And we will!

No surprise

Reaching for something

On the highest shelf

Clumsy fingers

Buttered well

This is the final test

The last judgment

Of all of you

Enem-me

Enem-we

What do we have here?

Rotten and spoiled?

What once was golden

Lies trampled and soiled

Shoo fly shoo

Don’t bother me

My cracked fingers

Break all I see

Sit, stay lay

You is you it’s true

Your waxy black party

Is not so new