Politics is where the pig

Politics is when the pig

says that he's your mister big;

privately he gives a fig

while he wheels and deals

and steals and feels that this is his gig.

Lobbyists all bring him cash,

fattening his campaign stash,

lapping up the balderdash,

while they seal their deals

and squeal the spiel's political hash.

Common folks bear common yokes,

while the fat cats come to play;

and the common woes of the common Joes

never seem to get in the way.

Politics is when the pork

serves itself with knife and fork;

celebrate and pop the cork,

"Cheers" from Boston to Austin, Key Largo to Fargo

and L. A. to New York.

"Money talks, and walks the walks,

'cross this big wide Pork Chop land"

squawk the "Pigs in Plunderland."

Oh yez, politics is when the pig

pig-like wheels and deals and steals

and feels that he's mister big.