A traitor’s kiss, a Judas kiss, on which foot does the church-and political shoe fits? Look the fig sprout is dry and barren for a long time and not soft and green anymore. So what will a country now do with its useless trillion because in the big ration there is only a dry orange and a rotten old pumpkin. The Boer, yes the farmers was initiated on their own soil and their password was just reconciliation all the time. Behold, at the cost of themselves and the entire wellbeing of the country they just had to do charity work from the morning until the evening. So the masses will soon sit stuffed onto an overcrowded pavilion and in front of them a fat turkey stands.

His comb is red and he throws his clenched fist up aggressively and worked up the mass calls: Look, now we seek our prey. Yes, the liberal white prey, fast asleep in their soft warm bed, now not capable of defending themselves and soon many of them are covered under ground. But look, someone calls; this is now the last straw. Let us now join together, yes let us begin to firstly invite our Elohim to our meeting again.