I am told that the Trum-pets will dance and
angels sing:
" Glory to the new-found
King."
Money lenders will gather at the
temple
The poor shall huddle ‘neath the
steeple.
The rich shall sing a song of
praise
when he emerges from the
haze
and I shall stand there in a
daze.
Free radiation for one and
all
the short and squat and even
tall.
We shall be uplifted by his
ignorance
enlightened by his
arrogance
we’ll be impressed by his
pomposity
he is after
all our monstrosity.
