Tally-ho

They came to conquer,

The toilet and it's,

Paper, Tally-ho,

Is the name of this town,

Had it all,

In a way there was,

No looking back,

Or up or down,

John was the messenger,

It is chaos abound,

They will never make it in China again,

Workers and people will have to use leaves,

To wipe their asses,

Once again denied,

The pleasantries of life,

Like soft white paper,

And erred of comfort,

I will use it in faith,

No matter where it was made,

It is just a passing of,

Natural passing of tide,

A lonely road that has to be cleaned up.