Gluttonous frogs panting for votes in the rainstorm
Croaking themselves hoarse pots calling kettles black
Batting the eyes two faced masters of double speak
Masqueraders of truth preparing for the plunder
Every promise a white wash every drumbeat a dirge
Graveyards of dreams gallows of destinies weevils in the beanbags
Recycled overhauled and overdressed broken records repeat the archaic but cheerless refrain
More water none to drink more power greater darkness better roads more mishaps
Helping themselves to the volt eyeing only the barn they have fallen in love with the poor
Greedy as the grave rapacious treasure seekers canvass for office
Seeking the maze to plunder our heritage twisted men in fierce combat prepare for mayhem
The coffers dry as a bone from yesterdays plunder virgins dog-eared by gang rapes
Insecure as the chameleon ever changing unstable as water truce breakers shifting as the sand on the seashore
Slogans promises scuffles and skirmishes designed to supplement their ravenous greed
Pale from surfeiting the vultures gobble themselves to death
