Behold, A Lost Nation.

Nothing makes any sense Anymore, The more doors you Try to open In search of the Truth The darker it gets, Round the obnoxious Creatures, That run the Casino's Roulet, And that conspire, and hire Water carries That gift us with Constant lies As if they were, Presents, And good old Christmas, pies. But the truth is We are all losers In this Game of Fools, Where everyone who Is decent will lose, Except those that gave The destructive tools, To crooks and ghouls That will eventually Destroy, all harmony In this new begotten Nation of Fools.