T'was the CIA in the form of that guy
Who set my suspicions quickly to fry,
Sizzling and crackling in my dirty-thoughts pan,
'Cause I'm much mulling the intent of this man,
Who ain't from the honest Department of Health,
But those folks who deal in fibbing and stealth.
And not so much stealth as diligent fibbing,
'Cause even a spy takes in fun a good ribbing,
But here's this fellow hard-blowing the whistle,
This when his bag of cool tales was a-bristle,
And like a good boy to the FBI went,
His hearsay to pass on until it was spent.
Then he retreats to the Company's dark womb,
So sheltered, so far from the soon-to-be boom,
From the bursting of scandal in full Technicolor,
(Of which we'd been stiffed by stern Robert Mueller),
Nor can you blame him for returning to spies,
To sure promotion and much feted besides.
Different is the fate of Mr. Joe Biden,
His life turning o'er like the good ship Poseidon.
I suppose his son Hunter did nothing wrong,
And burned midnight oil for his month's 50 long,
Grateful to Dad for a leg up and shoe shine,
As guys at Ford got sons jobs on the line.
But here we have Don and Joe joined at the waist,
Victims of a scandal on God-knows-what based.
Between the two gents, I feel more for ol' Don,
'Cause Wash-town dislikes him and wants him long-gone,
And it's not too picky 'bout what kind of zapper,
Unlike Joe who zapped himself with his yapper.