The scruples of a politician wouldn’t fill a thimble.
Their lack of shame is due to calculations oh so nimble.
They garner so much hubris from their ill-begotten schemes
that they alone bring down their own chimerical regimes.
While kissing all the babies and then shaking ev’ry hand,
they’re funneling great fortunes into Never Never Land.
And when they’re caught red-handed they are cool as ripened cukes,
and do not flinch or even recognize their just rebukes.
With hardened hearts and brazen brow their lips speak splendid words,
and all the while their sense of duty is strictly for the birds.
You won’t get me to run for office — such a thing is daft.
(Unless, of course, there’s chances for a boatload of big graft.)