Sycophant Song

Beware of that old lackey,
for kissing ass is tacky;
in fact, I think it’s wacky,
those fawning sycophants.

Take heed of the bootlicker,
the tongue is getting thicker;
they are the world’s nose picker,
and other funky stunts.

The scratching adulator,
is like a hungry gator,
who swallows pride for favor,
in self-promoting hunts.

There comes a glad backslapper,
enthusiastic clapper,
who reigns upon the crapper,
between the groans and grunts.

All groveling a-grinning,
with thoughts of only winning,
have balls but they are thinning,
without much variance

Watch out for the brownnoser,
that parasite imposer;
it’s catering exposure,
servile, bankrupt runts.

[Rhythm: 7-7-7-6] (Lines: 24)
Writer’s Cramp; June 8, 2012