Cliff end-times talk, bullshit-time talk,
mess in Congress-bray style.
Way up there, there’s no dealing with cliff mess.
Nitwits gaffeing; sane folks laughing
at their infantile guile.
Down on K Street, the lobbyists smile.

Cliff-propelled, cliff-propelled. . .
it’s cliff-slip time in this city.
Dingle’ things, grifting kings—
soon it will be cliff-slip day.

String-along blight is this throng blight,
filching light-fingered team.
They’re just robbers plucking
gobs of treasure.

Hear them blow smoke;
see, they’re a joke.
There’s no sanity seen,
just a big fucking hustle each year.

Cliff-propelled, cliff-propelled. . .
it’s grifting where they’re slipp’ry
dingle’ things, ripoff kings.
Soon it will be cliff-trip day.