Hello quarkness my old friend,
I've come to study you again,
Because of fission greatly steeping,
Has my geiger count-er beeping,
And the fusion that has ranted
With its chain, still retains.
So say the clowns of science.

All the nights I work alone,
In my lab of twilight zone,
Beneath the halo of burning amps,
The room of copper, it is cold and cramped,
What I felt there was the blast of a freon sprite
That did ignite.
It stings these clowns of science.

And with this sacred might I read,
Ten thousand papers maybe more,
Papers talking for the seeking,
Papers steering and glist-en-ing,
Papers citing throngs of choices and I swear,
That not one err perturb, the rounds of ions,

Fools say math cult makes it so.
Science for the answers blow.
Yield the grants as I con-tin-ue,
Don't alarm if I don't break through,
But the nerds from science brain crops quell
With tech-no spells, and clowns of science.

And the feeble bowed and prayed,
To the science god they made.
Feeble tries groan every show,
Nirvana sells them; share the dough.
And just sign the checks paid from your profits taken from the subway tolls
and legislative halls.
Pay to the clowns of science.