Word for wordish

It’s beginning to look a lot like warfare

Everywhere you go

Take a look at the homeless men

Glistening once again

With broken canes and silver brow aglow.

It’s beginning to look a lot like warfare

Thieves in every store

But the prettiest sight to see

Is the body that will be

On your own front door

A pair of hop-along boots and a pistol that shoots

Is the wish of Donald and Vlad

Dolls that will talk and will go for a walk

Is the hope of Merkel and May

And Mum and Dad can hardly wait

For war to start again.

It’s beginning to look a lot like warfare

Everywhere you go

There’s a spy in the Grand Hotel

One in Hyde Park as well,

The sturdy kind that doesn’t mind the snow.

It’s beginning to look a lot like warfare

Soon the bells will toll

And the thing that will make them ring

Is the peril that you sing

Right within your heart.

It’s beginning to look a lot like warfare

Soon the bells will toll

And the thing that will make them ring

Is the deal that they bring

Right on your behalf

It’s beginning to look a lot like warfare, warfare, warfare, warfare, warfare.