Chance utterances spew out your mouth
You are a blackguard from the south
Of Missouri, and I’ll bet they won’t claim
You for their own, even with your fame
Garbage is garbage, even by another name
Your apology doesn’t ring true
It’s about the riches of the few
Nay, there’s something much deeper
Your motives are much cheaper
You need a visit from Grim Reaper
Free speech can cost a lot
I hope your rhetoric is not
Forgotten so very soon
And you’re off the air by June
You are such a big buffoon
You have a following that’s big
That doesn’t mean you’re not a pig
To see you gone, I’d dance a jig
Your thoughts aren’t worth a fig
Like a flounder, you, I’d like to gig
Many lies you often speak
You never turn the other cheek
Trash talk by you is usually bleak
Opinions that some weak minds seek
On your grave I’ll take a leak
The answer is to take you off the air
That’s the only thing that’s fair
You’ll disappear and who will care
Rant again if you dare
You and filth make quite a pair
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