All I can tell you is what I’ve been told,
Whether it’s truth, or a lie dark and bold.
I’ll put what passes for fact into play —
Hoping tomorrow won’t chase it away.
I stand before all of you, say what I know.
Consider my source: filled with braggadocio.
I know you resent the ceaseless contradictions,
But what can I do? My boss loves to spew fictions.
Most recently, counsel who came from outside
Made statements that led some to think that I lied.
Each day I attempt to chase down some veracity
From those who seem hell-bent on making an ass of me.
I spend time each day to prepare for the podium:
Apply smoky eyeshadow, swig some Immodium.
I swallow my pride, do the best I am able,
Though sometimes it sounds less like fact, more like fable.
I find myself on my feet having to spin facts;
Providing responses with challenging syntax.
I try to exhibit decorum and grace
While telling a lie staring right at your face.
A challenge to deal with the White House press corps;
No matter how much you can give, they want more.
I start with intentions I feel are good. Well,
You know where that leads to, folks. Welcome to Hell.