Waltzing through the pathetic mud,

Luxuriating highest from above

The never wrong feels always strong,

Set in their regal statue stone

Cringing at the always wrong,

The always wrong as if they dare

To even look they must be ware,

Their very hide will sorely be cooked

For the Never wrong must bring them down

To see their height above the world,

Above the truth, above the rest

Above the knowledge, above the best

From their height their only friend

Is themselves, imaginary.