west wing ignoramus says its bout control
we know zilch yet we know it all
hearsay, gainsay fibs and blatant fabrications
dances merrily at the Gossiping Minnie's Party
strings on arms and legs they twirl aimlessly
uber goddesses with burning aching thighs
venting moist frustrations in illusory capture
to tie down and ravish wild and abandoned
to poke and **** in agitated passion
away from the kinks of little dysfunctioners  
soft clay in early deliveries with vigor-less charms
so call it a revolt to pull strings and control
we must dominate in the west wing and in the east
call it Gulliver, call it the power of the untitled
we want to spread and take it yet we don't want to
lay down and take it anymore
this is our made up dream of power