It’s a hard shard to swallow.
It’s a scarred card to follow.
It’s a lumbering craft dragged out to sea.
We were just getting started.
The sand itself departed.
Wave after endless wave and tree by tree.
It came on as expected,
nature tortured and rejected.
We stripped the world of all its mystery.
It’s an invite to extinction,
our last moment of distinction.
We rowed off on the tears of misery.
Pooh, pooh, Putin.
He’s got our poor POTUS scootin’
Pooh, pooh, Putin.
Our election he’s rebootin’.
Republicans are now his dupes.
He’s got ’em jumping through his hoops.
The money that’s been changin’ hands
could fund twelve heavy metal bands.
Pooh, pooh, Putin.
His horn our president is tootin’.
Pooh, pooh, Putin.
Our treasury he’s surely lootin’.
We’ve promised him a sanctions lift.
Consider it an orange gift.
He’ll open up new lines for oils.
And we will divvy up the spoils.
Pooh, pooh, Putin.
Our groper prez his horn is tootin’.
Pooh, pooh, Putin.
He says that sharin’ sure beats shootin’.
The future’s world wide autocrats.
On this doomed ship we are the rats.
Republicans are gross and stinkin’.
Stop them now before the sinkin’.
Pooh, pooh, Putin.
For his downfall we are rootin’.
Pooh, pooh, Putin.
We’re allergic and he’s gluten.
I heard gongs when there was no palace.
I sensed wrongs where there was no malice.
I averred that worshipping a chalice
is rather odd, although that might be callous.
Seems like all reports of holy visions
are met by a chorus of derisions.
Who amongst us is fit for decisions?
Answers multiply into divisions.
I heard silence in the midst of sound.
Sanity’s abandoned higher ground.
When reality is all around,
elsewhere will be always where I am found.
Seems like science and its many fissions
set the world up for severe collisions.
How is one to heal these deep incisions?
Answers multiply into divisions.
Here we come
Marching down the street.
We’re gonna check the I.D.’s of
Everyone we meet.
Hey, hey, we’re the fascists
And we’re not going to monkey around.
You’d better listen to us
Or we will put you down.
We say whatever we want to
And do what we have to do.
We don’t have time for your protests.
We’re compiling a file on you.
Hey, hey, we’re the fascists
And we are now in power, yup.
You had better do as we say
Or else we’re going to lock you up.
We’re just trying to protect you
From people who are foreign or gay.
We’re the ones you elected
And you have nothing to say.
"Any time
Or anywhere
Just Look over your shoulder
Guess who’ll be standing there?" *
(*lyric by Boyce and Hart)
Embattled cattle graze and wander,
chew their cud all day.
Rolling eyes, they sit and ponder,
searching for the way.
Holy cow. Zen is now.
Udderly awake.
This is bull. When they’re full.
they’re turned into steak.
You have killed our gods, McDonald.
You have brought us down.
We would just as soon go hungry,
even eat a clown.
Yes our shoes are made from leather.
We’re no purists, but,
we would rather dine on heather
than put cow in gut.
We reject your quarter-pounder.
We abhor big macs.
Blame goes back to Kroc the founder
for these cow attacks.
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.