When you vote for dishonesty
You reap that which you sow,
So do not now bemoan to me
How things have gotten low—
Your own disdain for virtue led
In an unbroken line
To consequences that you fed
When you were feeling fine.
So now you balk: monstrosity
Has grown too large to handle,
But you supported villainy
And were yourself the vandal.
What action, in this late date, can
You offer of contrition?
Alas, I haven’t got a plan
To remedy sedition.
Chin up, old boy (or girl) and let
The thing come tumbling down—
Who plays with water must get wet,
You drenched, dishonest clown.