You Brutish Mob
Oh, You Brutish Mob.
Ye fool's Ye.
It falls on your watch,
You care not what You see.
While all is being squandered,
you simply will not agree.
Yet you wave a finger,
then claim it's not me.
You Grandstand and Glad hand,
Ad nauseum of these.
And all you care about,
are those clowns on TV.
Reality is not, the Fantasy,
That they force feed.
Division, Derision, and Hate,
You've All sown the seeds.
Go Reap the Whirlwind.
Ye Fools Ye.
Is the bill that you proffer,
A plan of sound action?
Or just to fill the coffers,
of your Political Faction?
Do You stand with your Country?
The Land of the Free.
Oh, You Brutish Mob,
Ye Fool's Ye.
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