We do away with your kind
Countdown to exterminate the human race
4, 3, 2, 1 Let chaos entwine
On defenseless soil
Remove errors of man
And sweep all the weakening kind
I am war, I am pain I am all you've ever slain
I am tears in your eyes
I am grief, I am lies
Bygone are tolerance
And presence of grace Scavengers are set out
To cleanse the human filth parade
I am pure, I am true
I am all over you
I am laugh, I am smile
I am the earth defiled
I am the cosmic storms
I am the tiny worms
I am fear in the night I am bringer of the light
Earth succesfully erased
Fogey/fogy /fougi/ sl. (early 18C+, orig. Scot) old-fashioned, stuck-in-the mud.
Person with old fashioned ideas which he is unwilling to change: Come to the disco and stop being such an old fogey!
You think me an old fogeyand an old tory, his thoughtful voice said. I saw three generations since O’Connel’s time. I remember the famine. Do you know that the orange lodges agitated for repeal of the union twenty years before O’Connel did or before the prelates of your communion denounced him as a demagogue? You fenians forget some things. (James Joyce, Ulysses. Penguin Books,1992. p. 38)