The Most Righteous Generation

They wish not to work, but idly play,
They wish to know not a thing, no way.
They wish to learn what their hearts will seek;
They wish for everyone to have no feasts.
They wish to lust, and fornicate and bray
Like an ass with engorged member in the hay
To enter into the orifices of all,
To feel the sting of pleasure's law.
They wish to take your freedoms and mine
To say that freedom belongs to the kind
Of man or woman or unknown thing
Who wishes to fornicate like a queen or a king.
Opulent masses, and social decay
They decry isn't happening this day, this day.
Do understand, it is our most righteous men
Who this day the Gospel wish to from me rend
And keep buried in my heart, and speak not a word
For they wish my silence to be their curse.
For they see I have done some miserable wrongs
And think themselves worthy for heavenly kingdoms.
Yet, I say, here is a litany against you,
Why hellfire and brimstone shall there so chew
You, gnawing upon your miserable bones
For you chose this world, and not Heaven alone.