Dear Friends,
There once was a despot called the Ayatoller,
Chanting death he would scream and holler,
Rule by an end times sect,
Their economy’s wrecked,
And his last cronies are wearing a collar.
There once was a woman named Malone,
Her standards came down from her throne,
She looked down on the men,
Putting us in our place again,
And somehow ended up lonely and alone.
Idleness and sloth are the world of a knave,
Hurry and worry are the world of the brave,
Be the wise little sleuth,
And remember this truth,
We all see the world from our own Bacon’s cave.
With an allegation of drugs they’ll discredit the bloke,
The airwaves with propaganda the elite will soak,
But when on the attack,
Three fingers point back,
Because western leaders sure do love their coke.
The paper of record has a well known tradition,
Of slandering those with principled conviction,
With James O’keefe,
They had a beef,
And the NYT argued in court its news is mere opinion.
Sincerely,
John Pepin
