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.