Of wisdom they have little
Of ethics they have none
One thinks that he is ‘Chosen’
The other that he’s won
They claim their cause is Holy
But that’s their little game
For one of them seeks Power
The other yearns for Flame
So print it on your Tee-shirt
And bake it on your mug
Bibi is the ‘Petty King’
‘n Po, his ‘Trusty Thug’
They came to try the minds of men
With doublespeak and lore
With promises of truth & faith
Yet actions never were
But Truth it is awakening
Amongst the ones who sleep
And as the trance gives way to light
Up to their Minds they’ll leap
We’ve heard that spell before, they’ll cry
We know that fearful tug
You there…you are the ‘Petty King’
‘n you…his ‘Trusty Thug’
And so it came to grief for them
And back to ground they went
Nothing left beneath the mask
But lust that was all but spent
Your lust has all been spent old men
The lure has been undone
There is no Them that were ‘Chosen’
There is no Race to be won
But print it on your Tee-shirt
And bake it on your mug
Bibi was the ‘Petty King’
‘n Po, his ‘Trusty Thug’
