Mr. Fizzie’s House of Tizzies,
where courageous cats meet buxom old bats,
and slithering snakes eat vile rattling rats,
and seldom sits the fury-faced gnats.
So come one, come all, this righteous fall,
for pigs in pants that tell crowds that chants,
of plans profound that’ll make ransom rounds,
of national nouns and kowtowing clowns.
Yes step right up, the future is fucked,
because outward oinkers are running rampant,
and glowing gaudy with envious-eyes empty,
while moral peasants gobble up their sparkling spunk.
It’s the Outrageous Orangutan vs the Mad-Hatted Hag,
and neither nitwit is more than a personal puppet,
for their monstrous masters and controlling corporate cum-pit,
and they’ll sell our souls for green and gold greed.
So cast your vote for the villainous goat,
and put your head to bed, to kiss your ass dead,
‘Cause at Mr. Fizzie’s House of Tizzies, it’s quite a pity,
to be one who’s witty,
for no matter which way you vote,
the result’ll be shitty.