Throw open the gates to the Institute
Unbar the doors to the Asylum
Throw open the shutters on Senate halls
Let fools cavort in Imperial ballrooms

Lead beggars and wildlife
Lowing bulls and clanging cows
Through the streets and
Down to the harbor

Wrap me my darling in finest silk
Purchased with pilfered funds
Calumnies against our sworn enemies
Those foes of rebellion and fun

And yestreen a Jester even
Could be heard like a cock a crowing
We wonder as we duck and run
Are those cream or mud pies that they're throwing?

Even tarred and in peacock plumes covered
As we're rid on an ass out of town
I will treasure this tin can I'm sporting
For a queen's worthy, aye, of her crown

Penned by my hand on the 15th of Glacian, in the year 960 AF.