Your lib’ral lie is old and worn,
Truth had heaped it in brutal scorn.
The crap was all last year’s content,
Proving again the lib’s evil intent.
Then why go down this road again?
The same tired lies the same chagrin.
Who’s thrilled to know you lie for fun
When what you believe is really dumb?
Yet even now you seek more crap
From those who cheat and set a trap.
Your glands of gut are jars of bile,
Filling your heart with hate so vile
It matters not you are a podunk
On your way to a big slam dunk.
You hesitate, cower and hide,
Waiting for Satan to confide
Yet even he, a loser still
Will see your lie as wasted swill.
Your glandular mouth still prevails
In spouting bile and vile lib tales.
The truth came round to speak to you,
But all you did was give your view
On how we had lost that evil war.
The truth you surely did ignore.
You tell me now you love your guts.
How quaint you are, you stupid putz,
To talk of bowels and excrement!
I guess that is your testament
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