Peter Piper picked a pickled pepper from Pastor Perry's poverty provisions the town prospered, yet lacked proper vision leaving Peter in his precarity, resorting reliance on the rarity of charity despite his capability to bring levity to his municipality's nobility Peter ponders his predicament, preparing plans after some lament So he brings his case to his party's base running their race But they call Peter pompous and poor, a pilferer evermore Purporting Peter's positing of his peering into the pool of perfection Revealing racers' as ravagers, rapists, and raiders in their complexion of its reflection Passing Peter's case as poor taste as they race to save face from perfections' mace Peter Piper picked a pickled pepper from Pastor Perry's poverty provisions Humbled by our self-sabotaging divisions A curious precarity of our fear bringing disparity Our proclivity to pass powerful punches for brevity in accessibility of nobility Peter pondered our predicament, a punitive prohibition of their privilege to lament So we save face, sew sly safety in a sorrowful race Kings who conquer caustic cowering claim purity preventing Peter's proscription to devour They worked so hard, how dare Peter bard, pulling a card to show the shard Of a soul sacked by salacious sabotage sewn by our own souls cracked So we send some silver to Pastor Perry's poverty provisions Absolving eyes blind to the perfect pool's vision of eternity's provision
