The Enemy

Those we dislike
The ones we want to strike
Are hardly ever ill
And their troubles nil

We see them as a plot
And when we’re in a tight spot
We think they led us there
Caught us in their snare

Their faces full of hate
Say they just can’t wait
To see you make a blunder
And have you go under

But once you’re in the shit
They’ll be champing at the bit
To make things even worse
Lay a curse, next a hearse

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