[At a massive rally of his dimlightbulbs]

Tom D:
(Aside) I'm the hell-scum champ.
(To the assemblage) I guess you know why we're here.
My name is Tom D.
I thank you for that rousing cheer,
Now, you're going to follow me!

Chorus:
He's a craven sleazeball.
We've put in our earplugs;
We still hear him rave--
Won't someone put in a cork?

Tom D:
We will get each judge
Who isn't one of us,
For all their crimes against nature.
In god we trust.

Chorus:
At first glance, they look normal. . .
Then rolling in the dust
They don't know that they're following,
As in tongues they bray,
Spawn of Beelzebub's.

Dimlighbulbs:
We're not gonna take it--(3x)
Watch our land head for hell's mills.

Chorus:
He has taken them in
And they praying,
Even paying,
To abettor of hell's shills.

Tom D:
Now, listen to me!
(Aside) Here's my phony appeal.
(To the assemblage) I'm the new Jesus.
All of you, kneel,
And do anything
I tell you--I'm god's machine.

Chorus:
Give us deus ex machina
To exit this scene!

Dimlightbulbs:
Oh, lord, He did take you (3x)
Right down from Calvary's hill.
We want your religion
To save us from lasting hell.
We now want to take you
To spread our evangel.
We'll never forsake you
Won't debate you.

Chorus:
They don't cerebrate; they're shills.

Seamy, mucky, sleazy, Tom D.
Skids greased, he's pleased, hell's priest, the Beast.

Listening to stooge
Is his bent crew sick. . .
Praising his false theocracy.
Following stooge, their numbers mounting. . .
Looks bad for democracy.
Right behind this stooge, there are millions.
They've bought his flimsy story.
They're fools for his dominion.
We could be very sorry.