Monday, November 5, 2012

Twas The Night Before Voting

Twas the night before voting and all through the cities
The ads were still playing, and more is the pity.  
Signs were replaced now, in front yards with care
Secure without Union sheet metal trucks there

The pundits were nervous, they gave their best hunch
And hoped that the voters wouldn't hand them their lunch
The pollsters were drinking, unsure in their bumbling
With poll weighting likely to make their night humbling

The cable new networks were all in a tizzy
At last they had something to keep them all busy.
They'll pant and they'll whine til they talked themselves blue,
Lucky if one word in twenty is true.
While safe in Chicago, the dead were now mute.
They'd voted with Mickey, and Adolph, and Knute.
The states all around them indignantly stared,
But none were a swing state, so nobody cared.

The hopefuls were out there and still on the stump,
With ad buys they hoped would give them one last bump.
They knew with one speech they could still win the game, 
So they pulled out their soundbites and called them by name.

Don't vote for the red guy, he'll just kill old ladies.
Don't vote for the blue guy, he's killing off babies. 
The blue guy is digging the debt hole too deep.
The red guy just wants cash for rich folks to keep.

This one's for the wealthy, and this one's for poor.
This one gave us health care, so show him the door.
Remember for four years how hard this man tried.
Remember Benghazi and how those four died. 
They talked and they lectured and scolded us all
They told us without them the nation would fall.
Their PAC's proved that there was no line they'd not cross,
And in the end two billion dollars it cost. 
Eventually both of them ran out of words
Six years is too much of both men being heard.
We've tired of the process, we're sick of the spin.
We're ready at last for the vote to begin 

Tomorrow therefore we will show we are clever,
Without our ID's we will pull down a lever.
The ads will be over, at least for four years,
And all that remains will be crying the tears. 

Regardless tomorrow of who wins the vote,
The losers will soon call the process a joke.
They'll grumble and groan as they call their foes sinners
For Democracy works these days just for the winners. 
The chads will be hanging, in recounts galore
Each candidate claiming, "I know I got more".
And off in the distance, you'll hear the retort,
Make no bones about it, this ends up in Court!  

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