In a State of Insanity.

In the Kingdom of Marion

A state of insanity doth disperse

Amongst the people in pathetic masses

Down the streets in which it passes

To a school inhabited by force.

Those architects of hell left to their fate

Should aspire to such a meager estate

In which hell considers to be sublime.

The rooms are cramped, controlled, confined.

As e’er the sounds of screams doth lurk

And chattering teeth brought forth by freezing,

Is not the heater here to work--

This savage place without simple reason!

The teachers at the school doth seem

To be former to some brainless scene;

For not a teacher, do I spy,

Possess as much knowledge as you or I.

The townsmen here, I do swear,

Would sooner tear asunder you

Or chase you down to bring to bear

A savage beating for a buck or two.

The streets through town are full of holes

Which cause one’s car to become askew.

Then you’ll swerve into a ditch or pole

And crash into a fiery spew!

So once glanced ‘round you’re brought to ask:

Why there are weeds where should be grass,

And here be pavement cracked and old,

And here the buildings thrice as much.

It seems the story should be told

Of why this place remains as such?

But oh when asked, It can’t be answered;

For this is where insanity springs

And Flies o’er the roofs, this burning bird,

To set ablaze the minds of kings.