Ballad of a Has-Been

 

Behold the burning man

Marinating in rage.

Swollen with self-regard,

He waddles to the stage.

 

The faithful file in,

Red hats for a few.

For others, bread

And a peek at his 'do.

 

He whines and weaves,

Lies and insults.

He couldn't care less,

He knows it's a cult.

 

The shtick is old,

The burning man tired.

The faithful drift away,

A message: You're fired!

 

Me? I can only hope

A reckoning is nigh.

Much more of this shit

And I just may die.