Git Out n’ Vote

We got to run for the border.
There ain’t no law and order.
It’s comin’ down to clowns wearin’ crowns.
The ultimate presumption
by bozos with this gumption
is we don’t got the sense to shoot ’em down.
On close inspection,
this here election
is westworld robots roundin’ up the herd.
They got our number.
The country’s dumber.
And money is the ultimate password.

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I'm a writer living in Massachusetts.