DIPLOMATIC RELATIONS WITH HELL
Who will be
Your Molotov
To front those
Screeching millions?
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Beelzebub
Could do the task
Perhaps
Mephistopheles.
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The burning oil
The crackling sounds
The burning flesh
The pain no bounds.
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Your embassy
We'll wire it up
But whom to send
To meet your man?
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A fork-tongued asp?
A braying ass?
Leave him alive
Is all I ask.
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