Charged with Yogic energy,
They set out with buckets in hand
To paint secular city and town
In spiritual saffron brand.
Every shop-front, every sign,
Every billboard, every bus
Was retrieved from secular infamy
With a shining coat of saffron dress.
Then they came to a part of town
Where there was only greenery;
At which they held their heads, wondering
How to paint a bush, a tree
And why should Nature be so green?
It should not be, we all agree;
Clearly, this offensive green
Is an Islamist conspiracy.
Henceforth we must have seeds
That do not grow into anything green;
We will have gardens, we will have trees
That the secular world has never seen.
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