A Little Bit of Gloss
With a little bit of gloss
They are gods to those
Fooled by the pronunciation
Of a word
Or expensive clothes
Fit for a social king
How fickle are we
When a man's worth is
Akin to his accent
And the vintage he drinks
Praise to the man that can hide
Himself so well as to not be found
The outside
That covering that hides so much
Outshines the dull overlooked innards
He is but a snake in sheep clothing
Money they say can buy anything
Even those that feign over the king of the hill
Can be fooled by the flashing of the trappings of wealth
But all that glitters can on occasion be less
Than intrinsically gold
The man who can sing a tune that the foolish love
Will have washed himself of all his sins
The praise of his minions his baptism
No harm can be done by him
Cracks in this gloss are evident
But the glamour of the moment
Is enough to blind
We see and hear
What we think is best
The better to digest all this flam
If it is sugared
Those loyal will almost never leave
Or believe that the hype is not real
Praise be to the king of the social hill
Whoever he at the moment may be
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