Patterns pleasers and pomp
Got my rockets in a romp
Going down the street
With beautiful feet
Never stopping for a comp

Givers grumblers and glib
Doing nothing for a fib
Trample down
A growing crown
Until faith becomes your bib

Tokens takers and taunts
Throwing insults for a jaunt
Always around
But not a sound
When the results return to daunt

Buyers builders and bums
Sometimes are best chums
Though when in doubt
They throw ‘em out
So all become too numb

Flexers fixers and friends
Give advice to make amends
But they can forget
And sometimes jet
Until the time of some pretends