There’s been a profane transformation;
The holiest gods in our nation
Are power and gold,
And not gods of old,
Which cries for a new Reformation.

Sworn witnesses still are caught lying,
A strategy that is worth trying:
Swear on the amount
Of one’s bank account.
That may produce less falsifying.

For instance, there’s a well-known liar,
Known lifelong as a falsifier.
He covets his cache,
Of property, cash,
Much more than his fear of hell fire.

When you send this guy a subpoena:
“Appear in a courtroom arena,”
Since he loves his wealth
Much more than his health,
He might fly down to Argentina.

When taking this man’s testimony,
(To assure us that it’s not phoney,)
Oaths on real estate
We could confiscate,
Reduces the chance it’s baloney.

Now government’s too billionairey,
They spread cash around; so, be wary.
They buy candidates
Which eradicates
Truth, justice, the law; it gets scary.

So, worship the cosmos’ Creator?
Or a grifter and copulator?
To show all our youth
Our reverence for truth,
Don’t bow to the big self-inflator.