'Twas two weeks past elections,
when all through Palm Beach.
Only lawyers were stirring, the blood sucking leech.
The ballots were held to the light with great care,
in hopes that a dot or a dimple'd be there.
The voters were nestled all snug in their beds,
while nightmares of pregnant chads danced in their heads.
And Bush back in Austin, and Gore in DC,
had just rattled the courts over votes absentee.
When out on the beach there arose such a clatter,
the counters stopped counting to see what's the matter.
Away to the shore lawyers flew like a flash,
the out of state protesters started to clash.
When what to our wondering eyes was bestowed,
but Air Force One and eight interns in tow.
What came off the plane gave us all quite a chill,
we knew in a moment 'twas our buddy Bill.
More buxom than hookers, his courses they came,
and he whistled and shouted and called them by name.
Now Bambi, Now Suzie! Now Candy and Tasha!
On Cassie! On Dana! On Patsy and Sasha!
So up to the courthouse the courses they flew,
arms full of subpoenas, and Hillary too.
He was chubby and plump, a jolly old geezer,
I laughed when I saw him, misguided appeaser.
A wink of his eye and a twist of his head,
told all of us there, we had something to dread.
He spoke not a word to the Canvassing Board,
the ballots and punch cards he started to hoard.
He sprang from the courthouse, away to the jet,
before they all left, he made one final threat.
I'm tired of the lawsuits, the counting, the strife,
so I'm making myself your leader for life.
If that's not enough and for those who want more,
my wonderful wife will replace poor Al Gore.
We heard him exclaim as he flew out of sight, |