Evil - Carter The Unstoppable Sex Machine

He is the People’s poet and all the people know it

They’ve read his published stories in public

Lavatories

In town and country locals he’s Mr. Antisocial

His violence does the talking those boots weren’t

Made for walking

He’s a cold blooded vulture he won’t respect your

Culture

He’s nothing like your good self he’s come to burn

Your bookshelf

He’ll gobble up your children destroy what

You’ve been building

And when you’re left to suffer he’ll vivisect

Your mother

He is the Lord and master of every war and

Disaster

Every disease and famine, a piece of cunning

Planning

Be was in Vietnam he is the Klu Klutz Klan

He was the child catcher he gave us Margaret

Thatcher

One day the Devil was in high good humour, for

He had created a mirror which made everything

Good and beautiful reflected in it shrink to

Almost nothing, and everything bad and ugly

Stand out more clearly than ever

All the little imps who went to the Devil’s

School ran around with the mirror, until there

Was nowhere and no one that had not been

Distorted in it.

The Devil was much amused, and

The mirror itself grinned wickedly

Then the little imps decided to fly up to heaven

To make fun of God and his angels.

The higher

They carried the mirror, the more it grinned

Until it was shaking so hard with laughter that

It slipped out of their hands and fell to earth

Where it broke into millions of pieces

And then it caused even more trouble than

Before, because all the tiny splinters

Scarcely the size of a grain of sand, went

Flying around the world, and whenever a

Splinter flew into anyone’s eye, it had the

Same power as the whole mirror, and made people

See everything distorted

Sometimes a splinter of glass even entered

Someone’s heart, which was worst of all, for

Then that person’s heart was turned to ice

And by his royal appointment there'11 be no

More enjoyment

There will be no more benders no service will be

Rendered

The shops will not be open until he sees you

Broken

You’ve got to give him credit the poor man’s

Norman Tebbitt

Cruelty without beauty, beyond the call of duty

And beyond my understanding I find it so

Demanding

I wish I could forget it, and be more apathetic

It’s just it bothers me so how anyone could be so

EVIL