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Edited on Wed Oct-27-04 02:40 PM by bigpenguin
The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Rethug Five that day,
The score stood 51 to 47, with but one week to play.
And then when Ashcroft died at first, and Rumsfield did the same,
A pall-like silence fell upon the freepers at the game.
A straggling pundit rose to go in deep despair, the rest
clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast.
They thought, "if only Georgie could play upon their fears.
They'll not misunderestimate us, with Georgie getting four more years.
But Powell preceded Georgie, as did also Mr. Dick;
and the former was a scapegoat, while the latter was a prick.
So upon that stricken multitude, grim melancholy seered;
for there seemed but little chance of Georgie getting four more years.
But Powell held up a vial, to the wonderment of all.
And Cheney, the much despised, said "Go F*** yourself" with gall.
And when the dust had lifted,
and men saw what had occurred,
there was Cheney safe at second and Powell a-hugging third.
Then from five thousand throats (note: CNN estimated this crowd at 50,000)
and more there rose a lusty yell;
it rumbled right through Crawford, where the brush is cleared so well.
it pounded through upper class, the executives with bankrolls,
for Georgie, mighty Georgie, was advancing in the polls.
There were bulges in his jersey as he stepped into his place,
there was vacancy in his eyes and and some white dust on his face.
And when, responding to the cheers, he lightly wiped his nose,
the brainwashed sheep just couldn't see the emperor had no clothes.
Ten thousand eyes were on him as he exploited 9/11.
Five thousand tongues applauded when he channeled war plans from heaven.
Then, when the "french" guy pressed dear George about that Osama quip,
Georgie went and rolled his eyes, a smirk curled Georgie's lip.
And now his looming error came a hurtlin' towards the plate,
and Georgie stood a-watching, saying "He exaggerates".
and the media rolled over, ignored the comment and played dead,
"Now watch this drive," said Georgie.
"Strike one!" John Kerry said.
From the benches, black with people (well, white, actually),
there went up a muffled roar,
like the looting of museums on a stern and distant shore.
"Get a brain, you morans!" shouted someone on the stand,
and it's likely they'd have war again had not Georgie raised his hand.
With a smile of Christian charity, great Georgie's compassion shone,
like a man who can't eat snack food on the days he's left alone.
He signaled to the challenger, who brought the coalition through -
"You forgot Poland!" Georgie cried,
John Kerry said, "Strike two!"
"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousands, and the crowd was much maligned,
But soon they cowed, remembering the oaths that they had signed.
They saw his face droop on one side, they saw the rage it did provoke,
and they thought "Dear God, I wonder if he really had a stroke!"
The smirk has fled from Georgie's lip, the teeth are clenched in hate.
He forgets about the explosives lost, 380 tons in weight.
He wipes the 1100 dead and thousands injured clear.
And Karl whispers "mission Accomplished" softly into Georgie's ear
And now John Kerry has the lead, and voters use their clout,
and not even heightened terror levels can keep them from coming out...
Oh, somewhere in this favored land the sun is shining bright.
The band is playing somewhere, and somewhere hearts are light.
And, somewhere men are laughing, and little children shout,
but there is no joy in Thugville --
mighty Georgie's been thrown out.
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