I I I

Who's this Lilith, the abort-er    
Eating fetus, drawn & quartered    
   
In her drama's world arena.    
Bring the next match, seraphima.    
   
Must be three's a lucky number    
That she dreams if e'er she slumber.    
   
There's no catch, she's so disarming;    
War of III will soon be starting.    
   
Hostess Lil' throws quite the bash!    
   
Stock markets round the world will crash.    
Computer files will ransom cash.    
   
The way we've learned to live & play    
Will have us want for yesterday.    
   
There won't be need for troops with guns,    
Or bombs to drop from which we run.    
   
Let's just pretend we never heard    
Of climate change & Donald Turd,    
   
Of Vladimir & news that's fake,    
Fat boy Jong-Un & birthday cake.    
   
The drinks are on the one called Queen,    
Though we shan't bow, and she can't sing.    
   
   
   
I hope you'll enjoy while we're still connected to the Internet.