[To be accompanied by a one-stringed instrument]
O Great and Powerful Espnu Jefferson "Pontius" Pilot,
Your actions disturbeth me in a time of great sorrow,
You blesseth everyone around your Southernmost kingdom but my people, your chosen people.
It is we who must endure your torment; we who are forced to bear this burden, and for what?
When the raucous tribe of Thibodeaux or the arrogant Bryantines curse you and break your law, you bestow gifts upon them.
Yet we continue to honor your name, to offer sacrifice of many ligaments, and yet you reward us with tears and the flailing of footwear.
When nonbelievers question your power, even your very existence,
We, your people, chastise them so not to anger you. We ask you humbly for seasons of mediocrity, yet you do not hear our prayers.
You have sent monkeys to ride the backs of our leaders, Andrew of Kennedethea and Michael the Short.
You have bequeathed to us Goliath and to Valporaiso and Jacksonville State you have given David.
You have continuously cut short our pilgrimage to the mythical cities of Omaha and Atlanta.
So curses on you, devil.
Curses on your merriment and joy at the sorrow of others.
Hitherto, your name shall not be spoken in our sylvan land. Our future generations shall not be put asunder by your promises of future salvation.
The plight you have placed on my people shall stop here. Fie on you to oppose me, for you can do no worse than you have already done.
Lastly, we, your chosen people, have been shown signs proclaiming that our land, our.... state, your land and your state, belongs not to us but in fact to the tribe beneath us.
In response, I would ask you to shatter the teeth of the tribe beneath us, but thou hast already bestowed that upon them.