I drew up back when Mr. Skate came back from the attack 

The official fag saw the cake tossed into the lake 

And he crossed that lake with his overpaid army 

Of rats and snakes on whiskey ships 

And they are right, they were alive 

They were fools, making rules 

For their entrance into the butchery pools 

Let them be and that's the lesson 

An overworked dreamer and his cronies 

On minitracks and motorbikes 

And a contest featuring human beings 

And other less sprouts 

And other less sprouts