Mar-a-Lago’s a henhouse
guarded by foxes
with top secret files
in taped cardboard boxes
Classified docs
spread all over the floor
fodder for felons
trying to even the score
Millions of lost souls
and Q-cultist bigots
they lap up the lies
from electronic spigots
Looking for purpose
while grasping at straws
praising their savior
despite all his flaws
Empty of knowledge
full of deep longing
Q fits the bill
and their need for belonging
Fingers raised up
they sing and they sway
“The storm is-a-coming”
and so’s judgement day
Engaged in a story
which casts them as heroes
too dumbstruck to know
that they’re dancing to Nero
drinking the Kool-Aid
they’re dope-sick on Q
freebasing lies
and shouting fuck you
There’s fear in not knowing
how this will end
how far Q is going
to strongly defend
the lies of a con man
unwilling to bend
bendingtheneedle 