The Midnight Ride of Sarah Dear

(apologies to Longfellow)

Listen up teabaggers, you shall hear
me fuck up the story of Paul Revere
from back around sixteen or seventeen farty.
Hardly anyone in our party
knows diddly about that day and year.

He winked at his friend, "If the British go
to take our guns and our bibles away,
then let the bats in my belfry know
how our Founding Fathers taught us to pray.
Two if by sea, if by land hang one torch;
you know I can see them from my front porch
Ready to ride and spread emissions,
the ones I love like nucular fissions,
a-sittin up there on my Harley's cushions.

Then he said "God Bless!", the media whore
and set out on his Rolling Blunder tour,
riding to towns all over the Bay,
to say what his sponsors want him to say
on a great big bus, painted with flags;
and slogans like this one “We hate fags.”
so that everyone who sees it gags,
and a huge ego, that was magnified
by its own reflection on the side.

Meanwhile, his offspring all abstinent
except when nobody was looking
they were out on the street then hooking
got paid mega bucks for saying to you,
holding a baby all incontinent
in between this and that booking
to “do what I say and not what I do.”

He climbed the corporate ladder at Fox News
the party is open to any who tries,
who simply looks milfy and tells lots of lies.
Dumb people with hardons will vote for this cooze.
On the teleprompter were all the words
that when he spoke them sounded like turds,--
socialists, Kenyans, birth certificate,
till you thought you couldn't take more of it--
drill baby drill, and refudiate,
your time's better spent if you masturbate--
he kept on saying more stupid shit.

You know the rest, you don't have to stall,
magazines and books, you've read them all---
whatever their names are, yeah, you betcha
lamestream media questions won't getcha.

He sent warning shots so the Brits would know,
reloading his flintlock on the go,
ramrodding the muzzle as he rode along
while his other hand was banging a gong
get it on, bang a gong, get it on …

So through the night rode Paul Revere
warning bells ringing on his bobtailed nag,
to make spirits rise, and waving a flag
on his pirate ship, pulled by reindeer.

A flag on the bumper, pin on the lapel,
America sure is gooder'n hell,
As, homeschooled by fundies in bible class
they guess at our history and sound like an ass,
while democracy falls apart at the seams,
these True Americans're havin' a beer
with some bimbo who parrots Fox memes
and makes up stories about Paul Revere