Makin’ up stories is their main department,
and so many of them merely impart dreck.
Open up their blowholes, many to lie-bray,
reeling out schmutz; their raison d’être ain’t OK.
Liars whose lives are gloomed, craven, and shallow.
Their raps are quite lazy, not deep—brains stand fallow.

Well, some “pundits” spit out junk shtik;
they speak/write endlessly, crap.
Well, they are plying a lot of bunk,
nutjobs and fakes all too frequently.

Their wasted words don’t impart joy to the air,
just schlock-spewing hacks that make you ill when they fright-blare.
There’s not much worse than lies told in faux voice that’s bolder
than quiet truth-tellers without a troll urge.
We listen to goons drone causing us to shiver,
because we know that we are hearing from grifters.

The worst pundits spit out junk shit,
they speak/write endlessly. Splat!
Well, they are plying a lot of bunk,
junk, schlock, and fakes all too frequently. Yeah!

Wide rivers of nitwit flow out in rap sprees.
So many bullshittin’ ’cause they’re full o’ crap.
Bunk, junk, and dung are rife, yet they keep braying on.
And their shtik never sunsets; each day more is spawned.
I would like these pundits to stop the bull soon;
they’re howling like mad dogs under a full moon.

Wish these pundits would just zip it
and leave us bullshit-free. Yes!
Squelch their lying—that I would love.
Chance of that: one in infinity.