We denied we even knew You.
We marched You all over town, from courtroom to courtroom.
We screamed for Your execution.
We beat You to within an inch of Your life.
We gave You the only crown You ever wore
and it was formed of thornbush;
and the only scepter, a stray stick lying about the barracks.
We pretended to pay homage.
When that wasn't fun enough, we beat You on Your crown with Your scepter.
We condemned You to death,
and tried to wash away the responsibility.
And yet, You loved us so very much
(and still and forever love us)
even while we did thus.
.
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