Down in it.


This world is full of lying people.
Money rules their lives; their minds are so feeble.
Everyone cannot be trusted;
So called helpers leave you down in it.


If you remain positive, they will only steal everything
And leave you to resent your life.
I hope you like being down in it,
Because people are not nice.


If you attain anything, then everyone will demand their piece
And leave you down and out, left hating the thieves.
All your efforts they destroy.
Trust no man, woman, girl, or boy,
Because in the end they will no longer be a friend;
They are a taker.
They are taking away your money so they can spend.


Bit by bit, they are taking it
And in the end you will have not one thing.
You work hard so they don’t have to;
I hope you see a better view.


Maybe we could be like them?
Then again, let’s pretend,
That you are better morally.
Let’s pretend you can hear me,
Without needing to shout,
I disagree!


(C)2017 Aa Harvey. All Rights Reserved.

We’re the rebels they call rabble
They want us all to be quiet
They bluster and they babble
Then they publicly deny it.

Representatives, an easy question:
Who do you represent, which faction?
You seem to have a lot of nerve
To insist that you protect and serve!
You want our money to campaign
Then leave us standing in the rain.
You grant yourselves a frequent raise
And pat your own backs with praise.

We could ask who you think you’ll fool
But, this is a nation of brain-dead tools.
At least half the country does not vote
Which leaves our case with a sour note.
But that leaves half who do believe!
It’s for the Constitution we grieve.
Your oath of office had you swear
To work for us, represent and care.

We’re the rebels they call rabble
They want us all to be quiet
They bluster and they babble
Then they publicly deny it.

So, it remains to us to care and feel;
To be the infamous squeaky wheel
And call to the public’s lazy attention
Crimes you commit and fail to mention.
We point it out when you lie and steal
That the promises you made aren’t real.
We remind our brothers, the working slob,
That all you do in office is keep your job.

Getting into office, your number one priority
For that you must ignore all the minorities
Only mentioning them in campaign speeches.
Then continue on being high-paid leeches.
Nobody in your party will call you out
Just collect your money from the touts
And when you retire just leave the rubble
And demand the populace call you “Honorable”.

We’re the rebels they call rabble
They want us all to be quiet
They bluster and they babble
Then they publicly deny it.

Wimps, whiners and data miners.
All gathered here together.
Crooks, embezzlers and free ***** guzzlers
And hookers dressed in leather.
Lying, cheating and some **** beating
And even some ****** games.
Walls at borders and restraining orders
And finding others to blame.


Cheaters, beaters and lying pig-men
Trying their best to succeed
In the race for worst ******* of them all.
One more ripoff is all they need.
Blaming, shaming and gerrymandering
Doing their best to become
Millionaires, billionaires, zillionaires
Ruling absolutely over the dumb.

Mewling, puking and crying out loud
Losing stolen funds they invested.
Society defeafened from applause and hurrahs
When the lot of them are arrested.
Ripping, tearing their thousand dollar suits;
Begging their thousand year old God.
They’re the twenty first century Washington batch
Of Wynken, Blynken and Nod.

Hinky Jinky, Stinky Pinky
The One Percent will play.
Squirrely Shirley Hurly Burly
In the full light of day.
Hop them, bop them;
You can’t stop them.
They’re never going away.
Crying, trying, always lying,
They count on your ignorance.
Hinky Jinky, Stinky Pinky
Wham bam, thank you man.
Daffy, laffy, slappy happy.
What’s the hap? What’s the plan?

Cooked books, buncha crooks.
Loosie, goosey, where’s the noosey?
Flakey, fakey, jump in the lakey.
Take and take, oil of snake,
How much of this can good people take?
Scream and shout, let it all out
Stick it, we’ll show up and picket
You’ll try to trick it, we’ll buy you a ticket
On a rail, feathered, or off to jail.
Subliminal criminals, sentences too minimal
We’ll feel best if you and the rest must
Sell your houses and cars from behind bars.

I don't remember the last time someone told me the truth before their lies had already damaged me irreparably.

The lies just keep stacking up
You can’t even be honest about the simple things
If only you were better at it

Pathological liar?
Or just another pathetic human?

Your stories are starting to get crossed
You’re becoming sloppy
Do you even realize that you give yourself away?

You lie about everyday things
You lie about personal things
Perhaps your whole life is a lie

A lie, you keep on changing
Can you even remember the real story?

You’re mad when I don’t buy in
To your pathetic little game
You’re upset cause you thought you could keep fooling me

I caught on to your scheme
I caught on a long time ago
You’re not as good as you think

In fact,
You’re not worth much at all