A Little Bit of Gloss

With a little bit of gloss They are gods to those Fooled by the pronunciation Of a word Or expensive clothes Fit for a social king How fickle are we When a man's worth is Akin to his accent And the vintage he drinks Praise to the man that can hide Himself so well as to not be found The outside That covering that hides so much Outshines the dull overlooked innards He is but a snake in sheep clothing Money they say can buy anything Even those that feign over the king of the hill Can be fooled by the flashing of the trappings of wealth But all that glitters can on occasion be less Than intrinsically gold The man who can sing a tune that the foolish love Will have washed himself of all his sins The praise of his minions his baptism No harm can be done by him Cracks in this gloss are evident But the glamour of the moment Is enough to blind We see and hear What we think is best The better to digest all this flam If it is sugared Those loyal will almost never leave Or believe that the hype is not real Praise be to the king of the social hill Whoever he at the moment may be