General Discussion

There once was a counsel named Smith,
Who said, “I’ve got proof—every myth.”
“Beyond doubt,” he swore,
“Crimes stacked to the floor,”
Which explains why they buried that shit.

Judge Cannon, who leans like a drunk,
Sat hard on the file like a punk.
If sunlight got in,
They’d all look like sin—
So she locked it away in the trunk.

They won’t let Jack testify live,
’Cause the truth wouldn’t fucking survive.
If it helped their case,
They’d give him a place—
Instead they just stall and connive.

The GQP’s scared shitless, it’s plain,
Of facts said aloud on the chain.
They cry “witch hunt!” loud,
But won’t face a crowd—
Funny how cowards complain.

Wisconsin already ran this same con,
With Walker and courts playing dumb.
They screamed “free speech!”
While shredders went reech—
And the evidence vanished, all gone.

“Speak all you want,” said the court with a grin,
“But voters? Nah, fuck letting them in.”
Be brave, make the call,
Just don’t show it to all—
Democracy’s messy as sin.

So years of hard work hit the drain,
Proof of collusion down memory lane.
Tax cash abused,
Coordination excused—
And the liars all walked off clean.