Murderers and scoundrels
and other words not fit for here...

The roses are fresh,
The scent is strong...

The ground is rough,
hard and unyeilding...

Oh come my dear,
my companion near...

Realise ye not,
that we think of you rot...

If we held our loved ones dear,
As enemies to us who're near...

It is because light is faster than sound,
That some appear bright before they make their...

A sharpened tongue flailing about,
Centre of every shout...

If they who make sayings say,
Ignorance is really bliss...

Ye fool, ye dog,
What hath thou gone and dug...

My hate for you is grand,
My hate for you is bland...

If they who speak wisdom say,
What you know not...