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October 27, 2005
Happy Indictment Eve!
Twas the night before the indictments
and all through the house
All the Democrats were stirring
yet still quiet, like a mouse
The paperwork was filed
correctly with care
Pudits still arguing
"Is there a there there?"
Karl Rove and Libby
awake in their beds
yet no resignation letters
are dancing in their heads
Bush alone in his oval
not allowed a nightcap
So like Ronald Reagan
he opts for a nap
His approval rating smells
like fresh yellow snow
Not many presidents
have sunken below
Everything is not lost
Even though it does appear
Iraq may still prosper
and I'm a red-nosed reindeer
Harriet Miers went down
In a matter so quick
Like an early Christmas gift
From a jolly St. Nick
She was an evangelical
that conservative vixen!
No adjective about her
Rhymes with blitzen
Bush had to drop her
His back to the wall
He always thought he
could get away with it all
But her judicial record
Just would not fly
Angry right-wingers
falling from the sky
We stood in wonder
as in they flew
oh my golly
Republicans infight, too!
Lest we forget
People on the roof
Hurricane Katrina
smashing us with her hoof
Bush wonders if
Micheal Brown's still around
A scapegoat would
keep Bush from being bound
But alas, no, Mr. Bush
The shoe's on the other foot
How you like your legacy
covered in soot?
You've never carried
the world on your back
You've only listened
to the wolves in your own pack
My, how it must be hard
to be merry!
Life just came in
and popped your cherry
Everything came to you
wrapped in a bow
Now you can't get support
From Olympia Snowe
Bush clenches his jaw
Shows his Texas teeth
But Tom Delay will not
be showing up with a wreath
The gut clenches
Pain the belly
Foreign policy wobbles
Like a bowl full of jelly
How will you survive
without your magic elf?
So sorry, Mr. President
I don't care, myself
For five years you fucked
with America's head
Filling all us liberals
with sickening dread
You told us all
you could make it work
But we all knew
you're a whiny little jerk
Spent your youth
powder up your nose
Not that I judge
you wilted Texas Rose
The game is up
Someone blew the whistle
Go back to Crawford
clean brush and thistle
I can't wait
Until you leave our sight
And to Rove and Libby I say
have a happy indictment, sleep well tonight!
Posted by emily at October 27, 2005 9:11 PM