Thou who by the sword dost live
By the same thy death shalt meet.
So say the sages of all ages
And thou whose finger on the trigger
Doth find delight in snuffing life
And who with bullets feed thy hate
A lesson from the smoker learn
That hate is like unto the fire;
Each puff the smoker thence doth draw
Will shorter make the cigarette
And his very life abridge as well.
Tell the gibbon in the Schloss
The grinning dog minder
With bullets for a leash
That bye the bye the moment comes
When having run to the corner,
To pain and fear become immune,
The hare will dare the hound.