Round like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending just beginning on their ever expanding zeal
It's their snowball down the mountain, leaking carny trial balloons
It's their carousel that's spinning weaving rings around the truth
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping past their other sides of face
And their world is like an onion layering treachery in space
It's the Dossier they need in Russian Hoaxes of their minds!
Like a FISA that you follow to a FISA of its own
Down that hollow to their cavern where no sun has ever shone
Like a door that keeps revolving in this Russian Hoax dream
Spreads like ripples from a pebble McCabe tosses in a stream
Like a clock whose hands are sweeping past their other sides of face
And their world is like an onion layering treachery in space
It's Steele's Dossier they need in Russian Hoaxes of their mind!
Lies that bungle in other's pockets, lies that bang upon our head
Why did Session's go so quickly, was it something that he said?
Lovers texting about a storm left their footprints in quicksand
Is the sound of distant drumming printed fingers of their hands?
Cameras hanging by Stone's driveway are just fragments of this song
Half remembered names and faces, we'll know whom they belong
When Barr says that it is over we'll be suddenly aware
That Nellie's files were turning into FISA's extraordinaire!
Like a circle in a spiral, like a wheel within a wheel
Never ending just beginning on their ever expanding zeal
As their memos unwind, their circles we will find
It's the Russian Hoaxes of their mind.