Stoned

So much irony in life;

When agony is rife. 

When is agony rife?

For desperation's life,

For the people's knives,

And their baby wives,

And their babies' lives,

And all their forgotten lives. 

Without knowing our flaws, 

They outed us outlaws

And clawed our in-laws.

And all their detrimental laws,

And all their hypocritical laws. 

So no intricate foreign styles,

For driving two foreign miles. 

And was stoned to death so vile. 

Step on death, a cheerful tile.