Dear Johnny Corncobb,

When your rustic hate is on display...  
YOU ARE THE TERRORIST...
Good people wish would go away  
To learn to play a different way  
Or search for love you clearly missed  
When your rustic hate was on display  
Back in the hateful rustic day  
When your bullets became doomsday grist  
Good people wished would go away  
Since heaven has no hell to pay  
Until with anger you enlist  
When your rustic hate is on display,  
Like your fetish rifle array,  
Because your mind is in a twist  
Good people wish would go away  
And never return from that foray  
Of automated weapon list  
Where the rustic hate you all display  
Needs to go..all the fuck away!