Ever-changing goalposts
Never changing rules
This carnival of errors
This big top ran by fools
A circus misadventure
A game of hit and run
Like clowns riding in tiny cars
Cheap, cheerful... not fun
With masters on the ring roads
Conducting the charade
Orchestrating chaos
No pride in the parade
Yet still the marquees here
Roll up! Roll up! Roll up!
The goal lines never clear
And there's strychnine in the cup
But now I think it’s over
Time to make the final bow
To take the final curtain
Drawing closer?... it is now!
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