Air ring ma thoughts - no matter aye ham 
juiced one twenty first century mwm ape
serves as genuine s cape
to fly (during pitch black hours of night) 
on his witch a ma call it... 

to escape temporarily the cares and concerns 
of an uncertain world, 
where as n outlier from the madding crowd i gape
* * * * * * * * * * * * * 
at the sheer inanity 
trumpeting strumpets donning an innate 
prejudice and senselessness purr 
blind faith toward self avowed demigod --

seize ***** viz Cesar
his hair coiffed and puffed like it whir
wind blown kickstart ting mobs to stir
paying bodyguards to evict ruckus-causing murmur
oh...how the masses will let this country 
* * * * * * * * * * * * * 
go to hell in hand basket
and rack up stratospheric global debt
cause zing this one measly mortal male to fret

that totalitarian rule will force every man, 
woman and child to march....het 
two...three...four, while the billionaire 
* * * * * * * * * * * * * 
turns a third blind eye
speeds away in his reo speed wagon
foo fighter jet
argh...heavens to Betsy,
how the fickle finger of fate let
this pompous *** 

vacuums up majority votes
across world wide net
to finagle vox populi,
and groom hooligan nasty ruffian thugs 
with smashed face s as his smart pet.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * 
GoLong Daddy story short -
pondering my rental circumstance 
will be upended if this ret 
chad, evil, googly-eyed, gastronomic,
narcissistic bullish don will set
the spark for world war three -

via gone ah re: ha...ha...ha...to all vet
tureens within the american crucible melting *** -
with backs whet
unless....Katrina and the Waves, superman 
or the Sabrina can oust him yet!

It's the black and white memories,
the one's that we all try to hide,
but the more that's blocked, the more you see,
and you can't erase what's inside.

She tells her story, and it's heartbreaking,
while you say sorry you're both shaking,
you tell yourself this is real, but you're really feeling numb,
that's how you always feel when you're at Don's Plum.

She tells her fears to quiet mirrors,
and expresses her sadness and stress.
Through all the tears she prays someone hears her,
because it's gotten to madness and she's become a mess.

In the booth you're all laughing, sharing the old jokes,
but the cigarette smoke is masking your instinct to choke.
You think you're made of steel, but you know you're just ****,
that's how you always feel when you're at Don's Plum.

Every song you hear is nostalgic,
and it brings a smile to your face,
within the whispers is a hint of magic,
but the topics are lacking charm and grace.
And every soul that wanders in, is worse when they're outside,
for everyone is born of sin, but we sure all seem satisfied.

She tells you her story, and it's heartbreaking,
it all came before me and the choices I'm making.
You've lost track of how to deal, you say the issues are dumb,
and that's how you always feel when you're at Don's Plum.