Their chattering grew louder and louder
The air choking with incessant laugher.
It seemed music to their ears
How content and happy they appear.
They race ahead, in this mindless play
Not knowing they were headed to dooms day.
Like retards they twaddle,
Move from nest to nest in search of constant babble.
Unknown to them is a band,
A band whom they abject with the flick of a hand.
Wretched they called them,
And found nothing but condemn.
But the band refused to be thwarted.
They fought until the herd of the witless, bled
To realize that they were nothing more than a Racket.