Morons on fire
They are out of their lair
Sire, oh Sire!
This situation is dire!

They came down the gyre
Want part in the Eyre
Ask to play them lyre
And leave us in mire

Rules written on quire
It is all over the shire
Bells ring from the spire
Run along you squire!

Run till you tire
Sweat that you acquire
On the brows that you admire
For something you aspire

Jump over the barbwire
Gather and conspire
To bring down the Empire
And achieve what you desire

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