But the silence was unbroken, and his stillness gave no token,
Then the only name there spoken was the whispered name, "Ron Paul",
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the name, "Ron Paul",
Merely this, if that at all.
Back into the chair there turning, lit a joint and kept it burning,
Soon again I heard some screeching even louder than before.
"Surely," said I, "a face so smiley belongs to Pundit Bill O'Reilly,
He'll cut the crap piled so highly, and this mystery explore,
Let my heart be still a minute, and this mystery explore.
Damn, tis the wind and nothing more.
Once again I changed the channel, avoiding pundits great (but anal),
And there found a Statesmen of the Comedic days of yore,
Not the least obeisance made he, not a minute stopped and stayed he,
But, with mien of Lord or Lady, made fun of the Pundits of forgotten Bore,