Waste and more waste,
Two phonies. . .The Hill.
These men screwed the country, grin;
They make me perfectly ill.
The big bankers want to blow them
So they’ll make beneficial rules.
The committee gets no answers
From these stools on the Hill
In the scummiest town.
These two guys we should dread
’cause they’re dragging us down.

Hell there’s to pay
’cause of their crowd—
These men with mendacious voices
Say naught, perfectly loud.
They open their mouths; we hear them;
There are sounds, but they all are fake.
So of them we can’t take notice.
It’s just foolishness, swill
From two bums in this town.
Out come lies from their heads;
It’s just spin they’ve got down.

But somebody, we know, likes them,
And I think that we all know who:
The ones who gain from their dealings.

From these fools, there’s a bill;
When the numbers we round,
We’re trillions in the red,
But bonuses rebound.

Rebound and bound and bound and bound. . . .

So why did we listen to them?
They took us all for fools.
I don’t like them,
These stools on the Hill,
Just two scumbags in town
Telling lies that we’re fed
From these churls, grinning clowns.
Those clowns, scam clowns, scam clowns. . . .