By Begone

Rage not in beige but dark red hues,
Then sing a song of buttered blues.
Oh, Holy Jesus, a group of Jews,
Screaming alibis from bloody pews.

Fungus creeps like moss in fall,
Below, above and in the hall.
I can't contain the whole damn flock.
All around, they've stopped my clock.

Be ware, be brave, be gone, be by.
Be broken brushes that cannot lie...
..........
........ and more verses )