Kaddish





Ah, who is laughing on my grave?
November Sixty-Four
My kin interned me; though I crave
Peace, I can rest no more.

Is it that wicked French heiress
Who will not let me sleep?

No, not her, she has long since left
For some place very deep.


Then is it some Jew-hating slime
With nothing better than
To torture me for all this time,
Is it some wicked man?



No, it is not some Mosleyite
Or neo-Nazi swine,
They know and care not where lie,
The laughter is all mine.

Who are you then, are you a Jew?

A Jew is what I be.

Then if you truly are a Jew,
Why do you torture me?

And why can you not let me sleep?


Because while I draw breath,
I will continue to mistreat
Your accidental death.

The Guardian folk know it's muck,
And so does the JC,
But they don't give a flying fuck,
For they both succour me.

With every passing year, boy,
More and sicker grows the fable,
I lie to/laugh at Yid and Goy:
My name is Gerry Gable.


Click here for the Jewish fantasy endorsed wilfully by the Guardian newspaper.


Click here for the Revisionist truth supported by official documents.

And remember, if Gerry Gable had his way, he would have carte blanche to lie with impunity and I, and people like me, would have no free speech at all to expose him.

 http://www.infotextmanuscripts.org/