Your god moves very nimbly For being a self-propelled flitch As we chase him to stab his arse With one-third part of the world Dead numbered rats Bitten deep into clitoris Of whore of the whores Persecution mania of prophet Which can’t find a place to hide We are the mountain he scare It’s time to open his grin wide And perhaps we should Leave them alone behind For eating each other In the name of Whore of the whores