Grinding cattle into dollars,

you are clinical Mechanicy.

Until challenged by the rumblings,

of a juvenile McAnarchy.

Ten million bucks you squandered,

on gumshoes, wigs and corpo-speak.

To try and crush the rantings,

of a tiny, voiceless eco-freak.

For god's sake mad McCapital,

why are you so irrational?

When tasteless mush

makes millions from McMugs.

Be satisfied, your plasticky,

McMangled meat is masticky

enough to bring in kids,

no matter what.

Those poor, but bold, polticos,

stuck their fingers up your nose,

and legal win was hollow

in extreme.