Curse thy name thou art the spawn of pure evil.
A great and terrible contraption
Procurer of smut, anarchy and pure dribble
Thou art not benign
Leaving taste of cyanide
To be written in despicable lore
In Babylon thou would be a whore
From shores east to west
In guise a hideous portrayal
Thou art baseless relative incest
Burn thy records scratch thy mark
Between ocean beasts and thee
I will sleep with the shark
In lies thou elate
In truth thou defame
The sewer thy cradle
Thy taste, the same
In lack of all that is holy
Have thou a name?
Thou art the “iclicker”
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