The narcissist raves
and looks at his polls.

The lady with no husband
assumes the other role.

Oh, yes
they're worried 'bout us
'cause...
we're their next few years.

One only hears himself
despite the screams and cheers.

The other'd sell her mother
and all her former peers.

Desolation Row's stop
seems ignored this year.

Got no pomp nor circumstance,
just a nation's fears.

And...just so happens, by the way,
to be where I drink my beer.