The Rules-Based Order Crowd
The rules-based order which these pricks defend
Is such a load of shit, the smell would choke
A goat. As they quite visibly descend
Into a state inspired by meth or coke
Or both, their solemn speeches are a joke—
And all their threats as vain as tranny tits.
Touting their wealth, they’ll soon learn they are broke.
Touting their strength, they’ll soon prove helpless shits.
Right now it’s evident they’ve lost their wits.
Their spokesmouth, who was formerly a fool,
Is now a senile fool. He snorts, and spits,
And then insists he’s competent and cool.
How can such hopeless boneheads cast a spell?
Believe them and they’ll drag you down as well.