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Fund The Inspectors


Fund the inspectors, crank up the audits.  These tyrants hide behind their words, saying nothing, telegraphic sneers.  Promised a hot, bloody summer weeks ago.  There was no conversation, just a crack down, just a crack up.  Cannons are not allowed.


Start with the trigger, go from there.  Blabber more about strike forces, perhaps stop the vandalism, city destruction, and death, despite stitrring it up last summer with your racial spoon.  Hear us good, old fool.  Your programs are infested with your vile, twisted greed.  Emergency fumigation is needed.


Drone, drone some more.  Announcement about jurisdictions and coming together.  Knee deep in bribes, accused stalker, proven groper.  The American flag looks embarrassed, he doesn't belong near it.  But it's still marvelous, with its red, white, and blue.   

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