They were wasting the hostages, This deftly handling in stages; Thirty minutes another one slew, Nor bothered they would soon be few... For the beauty of Twelve Million; They're not asking for A Trillion. Twelve fine girls,nine boys handsome And only Eight left for ransom Captor tells captives "I love you! Just that parents do not facts chew; Like I do kola and bitter pill... For delays, impatient guns kill..." Isn't it too hard to swallow: What we'd do to in wealth wallow?