And covers up the tracks
Left by tramps in rags
And drunken stags in drag.
Rubbish stands on roadsides -
And restaurants for rats
Roll out rhetoric and flags
For patrons and their Gucci bags.
The flood falls from a furious sky
Sarcastic thunder slow-claps
Each time you hand out vote scraps
And we resort to relapse.
The useless mops you imitate
Just sweep up comic readers -
The ill-thinking debt-numb believers.
And me? I wish you fevers.
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