Gordon Lightfoot Forums - The Sinking of the Edmund Obama??(Parody of The Wreck)

http://www.scriptoriumdaily.com/2008...-edmund-obama/

The Sinking of the Edmund Obama?
John Mark Reynolds
Politics
04.29.2008
Hugh Hewitt suggests that the Obama campaign is taking on water fast. He compares it to the wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald.

I have freely borrowed from a song about that wreck to eulogize the moment. No fan of the Clinton machine, I take no joy in seeing a better ship taking on water.

The Wreck Of the Edmund Obama

The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the Senator they called ‘Chelsea’s Mommy’
That she, it is said, never gives up her dead
When the skies of November turn gloomy
With a load of Wright rant twenty-six thousand words more
Ah how his mentor of yore made Obama’s words sound empty.
That young man and true was a bone to be chewed
When the gales of November came early.

The man was the pride of the Daily Kos side
Coming back from some mill with John Edwards
As the big politicos go, he was bigger than most
With a crew and a message well seasoned
Concluding some terms with a couple of Rezko firms
So they left fully loaded for Cleveland
At 3 AM one night when the telephone rang
Could Ohio bitter enders leave them reelin’?

The news on the wires made a tattle-tale sound
And a wave broke over the railing
And every man knew, as the captain did too,
T’was the witch of November come stealin’.
Pennsylvania came late and McCain had to wait
When the Clintons of November came slashin’.
When Indiana came it was Rev Wright again
His the voice of a hurricane spewing and windy.

When Carolina came, the old gov’nor came on deck sayin’.
Fellas, it’s too rough to endorse ya.
At Seven P.M. a main demographic caved in, he said
Fellas, it’s been good t’know ya
The Senator opined he had water comin’ in
And the Obama ship and crew was in peril.
And later that night when his negatives went outta sight
Came the wreck of the Edmund Obama.

Does any one know where the love of Gen Y goes
When the press turns the minutes to hours?
The pundits all say they’d have made Chesapeake Bay
If they’d put Reverend Wright far behind him.
They might have split up and so not have capsized;
Instead he pressed on and took water.
And all that remains is the faces and the names
On the Internet lists he was compiling.

Lake Huron rolls, Superior sings
In the rooms of her ice-water mansion.
Old Michigan steams like a young man’s dreams;
The islands and bays are for sportsmen.
And farther below Lake Ontario
Takes in what Lake Erie can send her,
And the politicos go there as the pundits all know
Cause the electoral votes in November are needed.

In a cavernous hall in Chicago he stayed,
In Reverend Jeremiah Wright’s Cathedral.
The pastor spoke out around forty-nine times
For each state where he hurt young Obama.
The legend lives on from the Chippewa on down
Of the big pol they call ‘Chelsea’s Mommy’.
Clinton, they said, never gives up her dead
When the gales of November come early!