The brazen beard that lurks in here
instills in us a profound fear.
We shake and swoon and shit our pants,
a graceless and most awkward dance
‘neath the o’erbearing chandelier.
What I would give for just a beer!
This room is now in ruins, dear,
and all because of that knave, Chance,
the brazen beard.
Have you e’er seen a scene so queer?
So crooked and devoid of cheer?
A hapless, hellish circumstance
we now are in. Fate’s wicked lance
has speared we two, such wretched drear,
the brazen beard!
-r. miller
*Insert Propaganda Here* 