To a crazy whim, to think again. To mum the word, oh how absurd. To take the time, to read this rythme. To think about, how to do without. To make amends, a shallow friend. Give life a shake, your hands to bake. The mortals close, only Rasputin knows. That he can not spell, even the name Riel.But he's a cuss, not good enough for us. Black Hawks the man, behind him I stand. The galaxy to fight, every day and night. Rasputin shall know, every place that you go. The galaxy shall sleep, upon your backs I shall creep. To ifest the skin, until you die again. How crazy you must feel, to be reading this still. But I must tell you now, but I'm not sure how. That if you've taken the time, to read this pathetic rythme. Then one thing be true, Rasputin has put a SPELL ON YOU!