You find my prose so unrefined
So is my verse, no matter how defined
But here’s the evil of a far graver kind
The censorship, with it we’re in a bind
Censorship is the state when creatures
Who run your life’s most elemental features
Who ruin lives when they become displeased
As if our duty was to keep the nasties pleased
Decide what you can or cannot see
Or read, or write, or how you take a pee
The arbiters of who’s wrong or who is right
Some in plain sight, and others out of sight
Who censor what they deem may offend others
Though really, truth is what so much bothers
Them and their masters, evil puppeteers
The marketeers, the profiteers, the rackeeters
The peddlers of assorted fears, of scares old and new
You know them all, or how I wish you knew
The scum of the earth that slanders nations
The scum that infests offices and obscure foundations
Who pull the plug on you because you don’t comply
With norms of a fictional community, they lie
About everything — they’re afraid of the word
So let’s cast evil creatures overboard
Or, since we can’t for now, you see
Let’s keep pretending that we’re really free
Write to the Fledermaus