Our God, our help in AB past,
Our hope for years to come,
Our shelter from the Trollish blast,
And our virtual home.
Under the shadow of Ed's throne
ABers have dwelt secure;
Sufficient is his arm alone,
To hit Ban buttons so sure .
Before the Council in order stood,
Many an Atheist ever so lame,
From Bideford a man who thought he was God,
To finish Prayers all the same.
The Court commands our Prayers to dust,
“No More, ye Trolls of men:”
All rose from the Table at first,
To turn to OurAB-Ed again.
A thousand Heathens in Ed's sight
Are like an evening gone;
Councillors, lets ends the torrid night
Before the rising sun.
The busy rivers of flesh and blood,
Ed zaps them and who really cares
Our "elected" suspended by Ed's Scuds,
The idiots lost now all these years.
Ed, like an ever rolling stream,
Should take such Fools away;
They fly, forgotten, as a dream
Their Prayers to Die on Meeting day.
As freed people, the Nation stands
Pleased with the morning light;
The Councillors chopped by our Ed's fair hand
Common sense flowering this happy night.
Our Ed, our help in AB past,
Our hope for years to come,
Such Councils suspended while stupidity lasts,
To keep our Prudent home.