You've reached the pinnacle of fame
where double-speak's the daily game,
so many words, so little meaning,
popinjay, so skilled at preening.
Posing for a photo-op,
your perfect hair a puissant crop,
your perfect smile a sickly stare
which fools the foolish everywhere.
to derogate the keener mind,
a smile will hide what lurks behind
the gross deceptions of your kind.