I saw an aging politician,
With lines carved deep into his face.
For him I could feel no compassion,
Since he had led our country into disgrace.
His thermostat was turned down low,
The fan upon it was set on high.
His breath was even, and awful slow,
And I began to wonder why.
In fact, I wondered if he had lungs
With which to breathe his precious air,
Since I knew he had no heart,
Nor guts or courage to be fair.
And with no heart, no need for veins
that would nourish his aging bulk.
You could see it plain — he had no brain,
So why in the world would he sulk?
He never burped, he never stank,
Nor bled, nor sleep, or eat or fart.
So I paid a scientist
(Handsomely) To take him apart.
What we found, you don’t want to know
(And most of it you would not believe!)
Some wires and springs, and Three Blind Mice...
“Mr. Senator — it’s time you were relieved.”