To all but the conspirator
(Mark there's as many as before)
The thing about conspiracy
Is it's there for none to see.
Each man whether stout or frail
Conjures up his own betrayal-
A vampire banker in the night
(Or schoolmarm if you're on the right.)
Whichever shadow you pursue,
And I bet you money it's a Jew,
With all our demons aggregated
And in with our neighbors titrated
The conspiracy has grown so vast
To become democracy at last.
And once our enemies are pooled,
We're rightly glad to have been fooled.