Westward Ho

Sails unfurled in disarray Helm unheld to swing away Canting yaw in surf wet roll This ship of state without a goal Some would call this gone adrift While fools would call it freedom Some of us are somewhat miffed While shoals just wait to see them Passengers without a clue Trusting to a motley crew Of greed crazed re-elected fools Who just ignore their rusted tools And shed their blame by pointing And know they're worth anointing