December 23rd, 2009
Ode to a misguided Harry
Oh Reid, Harry Reid
Reid of dastardly deed
Who reads from one most corrupt creed.
A Health Plan obscured by 12 layers of terd
Spurred Harry to offer to eat.
How can this man eat this unspeakable mess?
A mess of such wreakable stench?
How can one digest such a mess…who could guess?
Enjoined by his benched men of hench.
Could be that his brain just fell out with his mane?
Could be common sense went to ground?
Could be…could it be…could he just be insane?
Could it be that his crown has been crowned?
A crown that he found in some old Lost and Found
‘Neath wallets that thieves had once picked
With bobbles and bling, and things worn by some clown
And two candles of Hope, just de-wicked?
Crown plopped on his head, and he said, “Yes it fits!
And doesn’t this nice crown look nice?”
It even looks nice on the throne that he sits
Where he S#!*ts out his new nitwit lies.
Oh my, Harry Reid
You’re not my Harry Reid!
I guess you belong to the Ages
You might just belong in the Hall of the Wrong —
Enshrined Cons all locked up in cages.
You blabber, “This Health spoof is good for you goofs.
Don’t care if you don’t like its merits.
Just shut your pie holes, and behave like good dufes…
And stop putting cheese on your carrots.”
But Harry, old goat, there will soon be a Vote
At some point your old boat will sink.
Oh, when your boat sinks, we will toast with stiff drinks
And watch your stink sink in the moat.
Then left to unbake: this damn Health Plan mistake
T’was written on Reid’s Etch-a-Sketch.
Turn over so all the sketch dust will deflake
Shake, shake us from this piece of wretch.
How can this man eat this unspeakable mess?
A mess of such wreakable stench?
How can one digest such a mess…who could guess?
Enjoined by his benched men of hench.
Could be that his brain just fell out with his mane?
Could be common sense went to ground?
Could be…could it be…could he just be insane?
Could it be that his crown has been crowned?
A crown that he found in some old Lost and Found
‘Neath wallets that thieves had once picked
With bobbles and bling, and things worn by some clown
And two candles of Hope, just de-wicked?
Crown plopped on his head, and he said, “Yes it fits!
And doesn’t this nice crown look nice?”
It even looks nice on the throne that he sits
Where he S#!*ts out his new nitwit lies.
Oh my, Harry Reid
You’re not my Harry Reid!
I guess you belong to the Ages
You might just belong in the Hall of the Wrong —
Enshrined Cons all locked up in cages.
You blabber, “This Health spoof is good for you goofs.
Don’t care if you don’t like its merits.
Just shut your pie holes, and behave like good dufes…
And stop putting cheese on your carrots.”
But Harry, old goat, there will soon be a Vote
At some point your old boat will sink.
Oh, when your boat sinks, we will toast with stiff drinks
And watch your stink sink in the moat.
Then left to unbake: this damn Health Plan mistake
T’was written on Reid’s Etch-a-Sketch.
Turn over so all the sketch dust will deflake
Shake, shake us from this piece of wretch.
