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January 10, 2004

Al Gore At The Courts

Ok, so this isn't a song. But since George Bush likes baseball I thought "Casey At Bat" might make a great parody for Election 2000.

The outlook wasn't brilliant for the Carville side that day:
The counting all was o'er, but with Florida left in play,
With Dade County missing voters, and Palm Beach short by tens,
A pall-like silence fell upon the faces of the Dems.

A gagging few gave up the vote in deep despair. The rest
Clung to that hope which springs eternal in the human breast;
They thought, "If only AlGore gets some ballots in a pinch,
Or we'll win in the courts somehow, with liberals on the bench.

So Boies defended AlGore, as did also Lawrence Tribe,
The former a leftist lawyer, the latter a judge well tried;
Yet upon the stricken multitude grim melancholy mounts,
For there seemed but little chance of AlGore getting his recounts.

But Boies let fly a lawsuit, to the wonderment of all,
And Tribe, still undeterred, spoke the letter of the law;
And when the dust had lifted, and dems saw what had occurred,
In court in Tallahassee, where the case it would get heard.

Then from five thousand throats and more there rose a lusty yell;
It rumbled through the valley, it rattled in the dell;
It pounded on the mountain and recoiled upon the ports,
For AlGore, mighty AlGore, was advancing in the courts.

There was ease in AlGore's manner as he stepped into his place;
There was pride in AlGore's bearing and a smile lit AlGore's face.
And when, responding to the cheer, he offered a tax hike
No stranger in the crowd could doubt 'twas AlGore at the mic.

Ten thousand eyes were on him as he called the outcome sad.
Five thousand tongues applauded when he raged about the chads;
But Katherine Harris stood her ground, her hand upon her hip,
Defiance flashed in AlGore's eye, a sneer curled AlGore’s lip.

And now the first recount deadline came hurtling toward the pair
And AlGore stood a-watching it in haughty grandeur there.
Close by the mighty candidate the deadline looming sped--
"That ain't my style," said AlGore. "Strike one!" the justice said.

From the benches, black with people, there went up a muffled roar,
Like the beating of the storm-waves on stern and distant shore;
"Kill her! Give us justice!" shouted some one on the stand;
And it's likely they'd have killed her had not AlGore raised his hand.

With a smile of Christian charity great AlGore's visage shone;
He stilled the rising tumult; he bade the case go on;
He signaled to the justice, and another deadline drew;
But AlGore still ignored it, and the justice said, "Strike two!"

"Fraud!" cried the maddened thousand, and echo answered "Fraud!"
But one scornful look from AlGore and the audience was awed.
They saw his face grow stern and cold, they say his muscles strain,
And they knew that AlGore wouldn't let that deadline slip again.

The sneer has fled from AlGore's lip, his teeth are clenched in dread;
He pounds with cruel violence his hand upon his head.
And nine justices hold the case, and now they strikes it down,
And now his ego shatters his face contorts into a frown.

Oh, finally in this favored land the courts have got it right;
The bands all play "Yellow Rose", and all Bush hearts are light,
Republicans are laughing, their little children shout;
But there is no joy for Carville--great AlGore has struck out

January 10, 2004 in Political Songs | Permalink

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