A Rusiyeh is coming
in bubbe’s knish
slim prayers are smiling
against morning fish
The Moshiach is coming
in marketplace pans
all set to sizzle
in bialy soft hands
The Rebbe is coming
in Shloymele’s hair
good thing his peyes
are corn light and fair
The Toyrah is coming
my chazan keeps slipping
our gabbi is drenched
the bima keeps dripping
The loshn is coming
with allemann feeling
telling tales of shlimazls
in a poor house appealing
And this warfare did come
in life’s humble breath
in denial of nature
in disruption of death