Attend, O public, to my supple song
It is of moment but it won't last long,
Think how the world, in these dank, cheerless days
Could be improved by satire's fiery blaze.
But no lampooning could produce the pain
Of list'ning to a speech from Herman Cain;
Of knowledge of the world he gave no sign
But like a dullard uttered 'nine-nine-nine'.
'Twas not that did him in, I shall be clear,
But an excessive liking for the fair.
Rick Perry strode so handsome on the stage,
Proclaimed himself the Hero of our Age
And truest Guardian of good Christian Rage.
Alas for him, this Spokesman of the South
Could not connect his mind unto his mouth.
The fist was small, the latter seemed so large
But could not function even at full charge.
The lady Bachmann said that she was sent
By God's command; she lost and so she went
Right back to Minnesota where she rants
Ignored by all except the flies and ants.
But now, as we survey the meeting hall
Behold the earnest visage of Ron Paul.
He wants the government to do fuck-all
Yet thousands think he's Jefferson return'd,
The brilliant leader for whom they've yearn'd.
Onward he leads his happy, crazy band
With a mad mix of Jesus and Ayn Rand.
And who is this who comes into our forum?
The sweater-vested frothy Rick Santorum.
The problems of the poor do not him vex,
Instead he worries about man-dog sex.
The great crusade that he has in his sights
Is that of cutting back on women's rights,
On those of gays, Latinos, and of blacks,
Because that way the rich will pay less tax.
Now Doctor Gingrich makes the ladies swoon
With talk of bases on Mars and the Moon,
He's go to any length, will lack all ruth,
But damn it all, will never tell the truth.
He has a plan to get us out of debt
By staking all on an enormous bet
That wealthy folk are selfless. That's a bitch
Leaving the poor at mercy of the rich.
Willard declares that he's truly the One,
Ordained by Heaven, the true, blessèd son
Who has come to save us, to take us higher,
And we should rejoice for he loves to fire.
Romney's the Savior, worthy of each vote,
Even from those who can't stay afloat;
He sympathises, he'll write them a note
Explaining why each poor person's to blame
For outsourcing. Isn't that such a huge shame?
Barack Obama looks, and shakes his head
At this assemblage of the living dead.
For, like the rest of us, he's of the part
That manages to have both brain and heart.
