From the Cradle To the Knave

I fear that We are losing this race To remove the cyst From the heart Of this dark leader The daily tales Of erect simian see simian do And words that undo The voices of maiden tales To ears that fail And again to this house We elect What below the belt Is the prime suspect As the vessels of life Bring forth the strife We funnel our paychecks Into coffers of silence And spin the survivors Like bottles at a party The loudest voice heard In this media circus Is the ringmaster To his trove of devotees Unable to rise from their knees He speaks and with them agrees To support the part of sin That no one sees