Oh, what a scene of grandeur and jest,
As the noble Lord in his opulent nest,
Decrees a feast both foul and bold,
Of excrement served on plates of gold.
The bootlickers, in their silent guise,
Partake in the feast with hidden eyes,
Their loyalty tested, their defiance meek,
As they savor the pie with a practiced streak.
A masquerade of deceit and delight,
Where jesters dance in the darkest night,
In this wicked world of waste and wealth,
The lapstick of manners reveals itself.
So let us adore this feast so infrequent,
In this grand palace of undying enticement,
Where dignity falters and grace takes flight,
In the merry dance of the day and night.