Out of the mouths of babes
They slither
Like wicked, wicked snakes
And take though they may
A great deal of shapes
They will answer just the same

To call them by name
Will never do
To put it all together, for them
Is too great a task

So continue your endless rake
But pay no mind
To these strangest of lies

And fasten yourself to your evening prayers,
Light your candles if you must
Because the time draws ever near
When such Cancers shall truly take Lust