He twisted up the very thumb of rule:
Which might explain the unsightly bruising…
His mind is gone, his pants are full of stool…
At least America is not losing?
But who cares, if it’s all a false crusade?
Our morals may be so severely shook
From slaughtering the enemies we made
We aren’t worthy to throw the Holy Book.
The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree
Re: these aggressive patterns we repeat
It’s true that we have left a vacancy
But time will tell if anger fills the seat.
And should the kettle warm the new pot’s chair:
By any name, God would find this unfair.
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