Fear the radj

If you should go to Rajasthan, you’re sure to meet the radjy man.

His fist of radj held to the sky and from his lips a radjy cry.

A radjy face with radjy cheeks, he’ll peck your eyes with radjy beaks

Of crows he carries in his sack, upon his red and radjy back

All bent and twisted from the weight, of radj, and piss, and rabid hate

For all you men and beasts and birds who’ll chance to hear his bitter words

That spit out from his radjy craw to fall and land on dusty floor

Then crawl to slip out through the door, and poison ears forevermore,

Will know you’ve met the radjy man and turn to flee from Rajasthan

But being blind from pecking beak will fail to find the door you seek

For bitter words with cruel intent have sealled the way off as they went

And trapped inside the Radj’s den, with bones of four and twenty men

You’ll rue the day you made a plan to see the radj of Rajasthan