Have no wings but
Being blessèd
Walk upright like the
Men they oppress
They watch with their
Piggy eyes,
Gather in their piggy styes,
Stalk the bowed, cowedcrowd
Which tries in vain to disappear
Every dirty whisper
Heard is filed away for future use
As bait for some failing soul
Or as the knot upon the noose.
Yes, the pigs have power now.
Yet the day shall come
When men unite as one to fight,
Throw the piggies into flight
And once hewn down, fry
Their bacon crisp and brown.
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