They wore their prison blues into the federal jail,
Judge had said, "Shame on you--you ain't gonna get bail,
Until someone breaks "omerta"* and starts to sing.
So get into your cells, and closed the doors will swing"
On trogs, a collection of trogs.
Both sides firin' up their view "sell" blogs
With rantin' 'bout the jailhouse trogs.

Scooter Libby took the hit for Dick and moaned,
Rove was gettin' ready for a slide con bone.
Condi Rice was checked for lice; they filed her fangs. . .
The whole rigged-election bunch: the perp-full gang
Of trogs, this coterie of trogs.
Both sides firin' up their view "sell" blogs
With rantin' 'bout the jailhouse trogs.

Uncle Dick Mephisto said to 43,
"We'd not be in the slam if you'd left it to me!
We cooked the intelligence from The Company. . . ."
Butts in Dub, "You're the dunce who outed Valerie!"
Them trogs! A bunch of bumbling trogs.
Dubya's dumber than a tree-limb log,
And Rove sounds like Ned's squealin' hog.

Scott McLellan for his lyin' must atone.
They're gonna chain him to a wall of hardest stone
Then clip his lids à la "Clockwork" and make him stare
At films of his briefings. . .not Geneva fair!
But Trog Alberto said, "We're bogged
Down in 'quaint' Conventions; make us slog."
Now Al's keepin' a jailhouse log
(And can't help Scott, the fat lapdog).

Tricky Dick and gang of thugs made same mistake:
The coverup what finally caused the news to break.
Crooked Spiro Agnew had been one Dick's pick
For veep; guy was a creep;** so is the chainy Dick.
These trogs put in chains and they sob.
They gave us a criminal sell job--
Now, danglin' on a jailhouse knob,
Danglin' on a jailhouse knob. . . .


*the Mafia code of silence; **also CREEP, Committee to Re-Elect the President, part of the Watergate conspiracy