Look out, look out, my precious child
Upon your way to School of Truth.
“What keener way,” they said and smiled
“To wean away your precious youth.”

The truth they teach has many heads;
They’re scaled with justice, each unblind,
Which bind you just like newlyweds
To ancient chains of men unspined.

They say, “White children pose a threat.
You have not yielded perfect form.
You have not learned your history yet.
Your ageless victims linger warm.

“A perfect form? A perfect peach.
A holy vessel never rots.
And now we have you in our reach
Where we can love you into knots.

“Our racial theory cleaves your mind;
For justice deems it just and wise
That you white children know your kind
For only you we shall chastise.

“Because you’re white, you know your guilt,
from which we sinless are absolved.
And celebrating as you wilt,
Make way, make way! It’s been resolved.

“We are, we are the School of Truth!
We are, we are the School of Truth!
Deniers ruined as uncouth
Shall not withstand the School of Truth!”

Look out, look out, my precious child
Upon your way to School of Truth.
Where innocence will be defiled
And savage faces smash your youth.