Churning and churning in cloying chaos
The uphill battle sees to its downhill exit
Things fall apart; Union cannot hold
Boys, none the wiser when the cheese eats
Rats and not a whimper from freemen;
‘Nother four years’ anarchy does cure
The sand trap for ostriches, Tally-ho!
The ceremony of innocence is drowned;
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Has the conscience the win was legit
And their benediction freely earned;
The Base of all angles make the Hill rise
From morass Mar-a lago a battle cry;
Who cracks the whip is none other
Than Tom Fool, and the torch is lit
With Bill of Rights, Tally-ho Tally ho
Things fall apart for sure; Tom here
And Tom there has sold the soul
Of the Hill, a carousal for hucksters
Try their skills; Things fall apart.
The best lack all conviction, while the worst
Has the conscience the win was legit
And their benediction freely earned;
benny
Pup of my doggerels 