My Hat

The coming war for Andalus will be savage and unrelenting.  Unopposed, the Muslim grows strong, confident of victory. Many in Europe will welcome the invader from inside, seeing little difference in what will seem to them to be simply a change of one religious superstition for another. But it will be more than that, and there will be those Europeans who remember what it meant to be master in the lands of their ancestors, and they will resist, and it will not be settled by negotiation; it will be settled only by savage force of arms. Islam will come to understand what western soldiers are made of, regardless of what kind of hat or helmet they wore. And if it takes western civilians with no hats or helmets to drive the Muslims into the sea, or kill them all, then it will be done. And it will come to this, my friend, it will come to this because of western fecklessness in the face of Islamic terror and killing, in the face of unfettered Islamic immigration that will one day, with the vote, turn Europe into the Islamic state of Andalus.


My hat it has three corners

A cockade red and blue

Brown Bess to make some mourners

Replacing bows of yew

With kepi regulation

And rifled musket bore

We conquered us a nation

And evened up the score

My hat now had no corners

‘Twas sleek and painted steel

Yet many more were mourners

Who heard the bell’s sad peal

No hats now as our brothers

Take arms to save their land

To save their wives and mothers

Kill all the crescent band

No quarter will be given

No quarter then received

The landscape red and riven

Survivors not yet grieved

My hat it had three corners

A cockade green and red

And yes I made them mourners

And weeping for their dead