People, to them, are useless appendages,
Blood, used to grease the money machine
While they come out smelling squeaky clean!
Hiding their unmatched greed in lofty goals.
Pretending the operative goal: save souls
While selling the means to gain power
To whomever has the cause of the hour.
Do you want a gun, canon or rocket?
No difference, Congress is in their pocket.
They'll do as they're told, so very cold
Money for reelection; their soul is sold.
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