Alex Jones Shall Rot In Hell Poem by Kevin Patrick

Its all a shameless game to you
waving flags and totting freedom
Profiting your indignation
As you laugh over dead children
climbing over their tiny bodies
as your soapbox of serpent sermons
like the spoiled son of uncle Sam
the boy scout for the Klu Klux Klan


A barker with a toothless bark
a squeaky wheel full of hot air
you like the feel of a trigger
when you should be tasting bullets
your just a slob with a mob
wounded up to your rabid tongue
You'd make love to your own voice
and now your mothers pro choice


and soon justice will come knocking
with cyanide at your tea party
your going to roast on your own sword
in front of your pig glitterati
and the wall that your itching for
will be the last thing you stand on
When madam guillotine grins
on your crooked pig chin


like the lambs that you've condemned
and the truth that you have blurred
The cruel web that you've spun
Will tie you down to your own grave
Hope the fire never tires
As it chars your flesh to embers
Lady Liberty will ring her bells
When Alex Jones will rot in hell