by J.L. A meeting was called of those who do dwell, Down in the innermost depths of Hell. The chairman was one who was known to be pious He goes by the name of Old Ananias. There were murders, thieves and Whittaker Wrights, And the devil was there to stop any fights. A number of germans arrived very late, But quite soon enough to boast of her fate. The meeting was called to elect the best liar, To the onerous duties of tending the fire. A motion was put to elect Mister Crippen, Who would give his attention to catching the dripping. The Kaiser then rose and recounted the deeds, Of his cunning and treachery, while fighting round Liege. The faces of all went suddenly white, When they heard of the fate of Louvain on that terrible night. Lifting up his withered arm and pointing to the sky, He cursed and swore that it came from his English mother's side. To exterminate the British was my great, wild desire, As they stand in my way to be the world's sire. Then old, ugly Krupp got up on his feet, And denied Ananias such store to beat, But the chairman replied that he had no desire, For he thought the Kaiser should look after the fire. The meeting then voted that all of these crimes, Committed by the Kaiser and his barbarious tribes, Deserving recognition at the hands of Old Nick, For the way they had worked the confidence trick. So the Kaiser, from Germany, got the job on the spot, For the lies that he told beat the blooming lot.. Even old Ananias was bound to admit, He's proven his claim to the bottomless pit.
The end