'Twas Right Before Christmas
by Randy Taylor
'Twas right before Christmas, when through the White House
Not a brain cell was stirring, least not from the Louse;
The stockings were hung by the chimney with care,
In hopes that St. Nicholas wouldn’t be there;
Jenna and Babs were all snug in their beds,
While visions of coat-tails danced in their heads;
And Laura in her 'kerchief, and George in his cap,
Were doing a few lines before a long winter's nap.
Secret Service was warned, Homeland Security on alert,
The perimeter was to be held against that liberal subvert!
Upon his throne, George dove into a snack,
And thought up another nation God wanted him to attack.
When on the Front Lawn there arose such a clatter,
George sprang up in horror to see what was the matter.
Away to the window he flew like a flash,
Put down the pretzels and threw up the sash.
The count from the polls in a corrupted state
Gave the illusion to King George that he got a mandate;
When, what to his fear-ridden eyes should appear,
But a peacenik sleigh, and eight progressive reindeer,
With a liberal old driver, so lively and quick,
He knew in a moment it must be St. Nick.
More rapid than bald eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted the roll call by name;
"Now, DEAN! now, KUCINICH! now, GORE and CLINTON!
On, KERRY! on EDWARDS! on, OBAMA and FRANKEN!
To the top of the Hill! to another brick in the wall!
Now dash away! dash away! dash away all!"
St. Nick is a Democrat, so it says on the roll,
For generosity and freedom, and the promise they hold;
This pit stop for justice against unnatural selection,
Would take back for the people what George stole in the election.
And then, it was tinkling he heard on the roof;
The prancing and pawing of each left hoof.
As George called security and was turning around,
Down the chimney St. Nicholas came with a bound.
He was dressed all in fur, from his head to his foot,
His red clothes made by outsourced manufacturers to boot;
A tire iron and empty sacks in his clutches,
Left George to fear going to his inaugural on crutches.
George’s guards did not arrive, left completely aghast,
For fear that even Kucinich would put a cap in their ass;
For financial destruction and a war without reason,
It was plain to the eye, it was Bush hunting season.
His eyes -- how they pierced! his presence was hard!
George wanted to flee as he did from the Guard!
Nick’s droll little mouth was drawn tight and pursed,
At the sight of the President history would see as our worst;
The stump of a pipe held tight in his teeth,
And the smoke it encircled smelled like Baghdad and Tikrit;
He had a stern look, and an involuntary twitch,
For the one who sold out our soldiers to benefit the rich.
He worked out to get buff, now a solid old elf,
And he saw all the gifts George kept for himself;
The squint in his eye and the shake of his head,
Soon told George he had everything to dread;
He showed his union card, then went straight to his work,
Took the gifts and stockings, then turned toward the jerk;
Gave Bush the finger, the middle one he chose,
Called him a thief, and up the chimney he rose.
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like the down of a thistle.
But we heard him exclaim, ere he left without hitch,
"HAPPY CHRISTMAS TO ALL, EXCEPT THAT SON-OF-A-BITCH!"
Common Ground Common Sense
When everything seems like the movies
Yeah you BLOG bleed just to know you'r alive
'Twas Right Before Christmas