the political game

justin other smith

The Liberalite’s ‘re at the gate,

a-bangin’ ’n a-frettin’ to get in,

’n tellin’ ever’body that liberal ain’t a sin,

’n illegal ain’t illegal if ever’one c’n come in.

And Not too awful long ago, 

they owned the  ‘hull shebang,

but when they coronated Hillary

ever’thang went down the drain,

ever’thang wuz wrapped so tight,

wudn’t no need to ask for more,

Hillary wuz a shoo-in, 

with one foot in the door,

’n Bill a-slappin’ shoulders

a grinnin’ really wide,

they was all a-celebratin’,

just had to walk inside

 the pollsters wuz a-slappin’ backs,

braggin’ on theirselves,

when a whisper went thru the crowd,

supposin’ sumthin’ fails…

why, God wudn’t let that happen,

surely not, we own the night,

why, we own the basket ’n the ball

’n our victory is in sight.

’n the referee’s are our’n,

’n the mob duz what we say 

‘cuz it’s our natcheral right

’n we’re shore to win the day,

except, s’posin’ we woke up in the mornin’

to find sumthin’  did go wrong,

’n we heard a orange-haired ignoramus

leadin’ us in a brand new song.

Politicks don’t ever change,

it always stays the same

if you want gravel on your street,

you gotta play the game.

The Liberalites are at the door,

screaming to get back in,

’n they only want just a little more, 

that’s the way it’s always been.

They took a little here, they took a little there,

they took a little off the top,

The problem, as I see it,

They didn’t know where to stop.

What was it Everett Dirksen said,

Oh, so long ago,

A million here, a million there,

’n soon you’re talking dough.

Give me just a little more,

so’s I don’t work so hard,

and a nice big house to live in,

so’s I don’t get too tired.

And maybe a doctor ’n a nurse,

in case I ain’t feelin’ well,

’n maybe a babysitter, now ’n then,

so’s I c’n sit a spell.

’n maybe someone could bring a meal

on one ‘a them little trays

to lighten my load just a little bit

on my poor blighted days

 Y ‘know, give me just a little hope

so I don ’t have to live in fear

that maybe one day I’ll have to work

to get my own ass thru the year.

Justin Other Smith