It was the pig that had the sausage for breakfast this morning
Feeding itself more lies as it lay in mourning of the time before
When it was all about him
When he could take off those of whom he still takes from today
It was the meat that he had been given by the moon-faced man
Who was trying to get high in the little mafia of people with too much money
On a lump in the mud slightly higher than the rest of humanity
What would your mother think of you now
"Can you keep a secret?" he said to his friends who chortled away over the glass
For it was as long as it suited them that they kept this dirty deed out the eyes of other men
Since it would there be a time when it would relevant again
Such as to take the man down to a post back where he belonged
Rolling in the filth once again with his fellow men
However, the Moon Man bounced back
With his expensive hand-made suits and a patriotic tear in his eye
He looks across at those he considers weak and they say
What would your mother think of you now
Would she stand by you and a take a bow for the misdeeds you allow
What would your mother think of you now
Shit