Arrive in the forecast, feed, please the fiddle;
A country of noggins, hey-diddle-diddle…
Crossing the tracks’s a school failure’s riddle -
Go to the ramming, champagne for the middle…
An inappropriate tale most likely to swallow us.
Negative scopes imply advice that’s too rancorous.
Peaceful implosion should meaningfully follow us…
A love for diplomacy and spite much too amorous.
A lobby now full, that response to aversion -
Our bills piling high, quite grave, no excursion;
Cutting our nonsense, less calm, more diversion -
Economic triumph signaling proof of immersion…
Preferably guilty - extreme multiplier;
Throw out the bagels, they will not expire;
Catfish now jumping, from the lake to the fryer.
This one’s pure fiction, now down to the wire…
A reticent conduct for every mean blurt -
Much of the precepts acknowledged by insert.
Blessed are souls who identify in concert
Hopes, dreams, and visions to which we’d revert.
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