PIE THEM!
 
I accuse publicly the judges of this land
Of sheer malevolence and petty prejudice
Toward those who are tried and who before them stand:
They strip them off their civic rights to fair justice
And haughtily deny them a just chance to speak.
These magistrates' indignity, no-one can tell,
While, with partiality , they still oppress the weak.
Why don't we pie them down until they rot in hell?
 
In the court of appeal of Colmar, Upper Rhine,
I know two of them louts: they're called Schmelck and Eichler;
I report against them and demand they resign
For blatant injustice and abuse of power.
Their reek of maccarthysm and pétainism
Is the most loathesome stench that one can ever smell.
May shame fall on them for their negationism!
Why don't we pie them down until they rot in hell?
 
Let them be discredited and forever cursed,
These black-robed evil-doing foul-souled men of law,
Who meanly inflict wounds that can never be nursed
To the vulnerable and leave them in the raw.
Let's throw shaving-foam pies at them, and turd-tarts too.
Let them be spat upon, and peed upon as well;
That is all they deserve, and that's what we will do.
Why don't we pie them down until they rot in hell?
 
When they are ridiculed and no longer trusted,
With their robes dripping shit, they'll go hide in their shell
And we'll be so happy to have got them busted.
Why don't we pie them down until they rot in hell?