He Presses on like a dazzling sun
As he swats those fleas about
The life of a liberal - so much fun
No need to debate - just shout
He hates the words of an ancient song
With his twisted heart’s fearful sigh
Blessed be his words even if wrong
The chances of which are high
He is at peace as he attacks his foes
For it is his life so free
And he revels in his brilliant prose
Nonsense for all to see
Words follow words that he creates
Through boundless liberal space
But still we sing the song he hates
And do so with pomp and grace
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