When Mohammed Goes Dancing

When Mohammed goes dancing with Allah, his bride,
All the mules and the donkeys are laughing inside,
For his beard, it is dangling, and wraps round their feet,
And on into the pig-juice they tumble so neat.
And it’s then they’re like gluttons, a-slurping it up,
Just a-slurping and drinking, too greedy to stop.
Then Mohammed acts more like a pig than a man
And he rapes his dear Allah as fast as he can.
Nine months later the piglets of Allah come out;
Oh, such queer little Moslems all oinking about!
How they hate their old father, and Allah, the queen,
For not giving them manhood—it’s not to be seen.
For instead of clear thinking they oink all day long,
And the whole world is laughing at Moslems so wrong!
Then the Moslems go killing and blowing things up
In their hatred of being the pigs in the slop—
In the slop of the pig-juice round Mohammed’s feet—
Cause they know that they’re nothing but oinks that repeat.
This repeating of oinking is hard on the brain,
And is why there’s no Moslems that manhood attain.
They are lost to al honesty, stuck in life strife,
Who do squeal with Mohammed and Allah for life.
And their death is not better, but earns them a curse,
The just curse of real men in the whole universe!

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