The end is coming, look over there.
A  herd of buffoons with bright purple hair.
They're all carrying signs that make no sense.
They're led by an ugly drag queen named Spence.
He's wearing a tutu, with sheer pantyhose.
Looks like a doorknocker, hangs from his nose.
He's got a chicken, stapled to his face.
Is he looking to cross a road someplace.
The sky is falling, the chicken is screaming.
I pinch myself to see if I'm dreaming.
I feel the pain, therefore, this crap is real.
These zombies are part of the purple new deal.
Their purpose is chaos, their weapon is spittle.
They can't be arrested, they're promised acquittal.
It's a fine state of affairs, we have come too.
Being harangued by a rampaging leftist zoo.
They want us to pay off their student loans.
Can anyone else hear how God groans.
D.L. Crockett -- 8/30/22