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