McCain: The Metonymy of Bad Timing
The Mark of McCain is a mark
of indistinction,
a Luke into the past,
a John in which to dump a load,
but not a chad,
certainly not a chad...
Pregnant, hanging, dimpled and daft
Johnny's the man to vilify The Craft.
"Mahayana" says Barack, filling up the raft,
Semaphor McCain wagged his arms and gaffed:
"My words fall from my lips
like rotten wooden chips."
Barockin' Rollin' mamas
Sing Crosby's Wooden Ships...
On the water, very free.
Let it be.
Let it be.
McCain, the metonymy of bad timing,
Stands holding the standard
after the standard had been stolen
and soiled
and sold to the loosest bidder
as a bidet
for the drowning of a government
the people.
Mister Bad Timing, O prisoner of eternal war,
go home now. We've wounds to heal.
Your medicine is obsolete.
Go home.