Filibuster Ardor © Donna Rae Lands
Filibuster ardor was their hidden lies…
All were showboat cries all about the lioness martyr…
Watched and taken as lousy drinks amongst all their ranks…
The envoi of their stance…
Tis the riddles to fiddle-their spanker prance…
All to hide and betide their coy and ravishing dance…
They told their tales from their rails ever so harder…
Filibuster ardor was their hidden lies…
All were showboat cries about the lioness martyr…
They were numbing us down and all around with their frowns…
They squeeze to please their crowds of chance…
The envoi of their stance…
Tis the riddles to fiddle with the church’s expanse…
They tried to impress all the rest…
The news had their back like the wounded bear upon the rack…
Filibuster ardor was their hidden lies…
All were showboat cries all about the lioness martyr…
Their mojo theme was the scars and scabs of mean…
They beat their drums-singing their fuckery rants…
The envoi of their stance…
Tis the riddles to fiddle with her majesty’s dance…
The innocent man of grand was he, indeed…
Festered and pestered up in their garden of evil weeds…
The envoi of their stance ended the lovers dance…
Filibuster ardor was their hidden lies…
All were showboat cries all about the lioness martyr…
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