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The masters gave the squeaky wheel the grease
But it hadn't finished its critique
It was a wheel of principled beliefs
And so the wheel developed its technique
Until, one day, it showed its masterpiece:
It wailed an angry piercing greaseproof shriek
It keened until the wheel, at last, found peace
Rusting at the bottom of the creek

The other wheels when asked apiece
Seemed all too happy with the grease

spooky music

It Is The Parabola (reversed, abridged) by Bull of Heaven