Tripitena's Speech

My love The king by any other name, a pissoir You, my love, tower over them all They are but vermin beneath your heels They are monkeys Suit them, frame them to your own vision But do not let one false word of mockery seep through to your vast heart I have seen you from close and afar and your worth Far exceeds your height, your width, the depth of your sorrow Oh, willful outcast, doth thou not see the light of our love? Our linked fortunes Our hearts melted together into one fine golden braided finery They listen to the music of idiots and amuse themselves With the sordid miseries of their businesses They are not the things of angels Nor of any higher outpost that humanity might aspire to Your loathsome vomitous businessman king is of the lowest order His advisors, crumbling mockeries of education driven by avarice My love, dress them in the suits of mockery And in their advanced state of stupidity and senility Burn and destroy them, so their ashes might join the compost Which they so much deserve If justice on the earth be fleeting Let us for once hear the weeping And the braying of the businessman king Let them be the orangutans they are And set them blazing from the chandelier for all to see Hanging from the ceiling by their ridiculous chains And petticoats which you will have them wear Under the guise of costumic buffoonery He who underestimates in time is bound to find the truth sublime And hollow lie upon the grates of systematic disorder Businessmen You're not worth shitting on