The little red-faced man yelled as he slid down the hill
He yelled, and he lied
He said it was just an act
Except when it wasn’t
Like when he uses the grief of the parents of the dead children
It’s not when he scares his followers into keeping weapons handy
Always hiding behind the word of the law, he sacrifices its spirit like a roach under his boot
And as he slides down the hill, his face gets redder and he gets more desperate
