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Is that you again Bill Bennett Born under your own star, The national moral compass And self-styled virtue tsar?
Does the past still make your cases? And all things cawed by Cato? Denouncing Greeks and all their ilk 'Cept that is for Plato.
Yes, Cato too despised them Greeks Save for his son's learning, As surely 'The Republic' suits Your pretentious yearning.
And my you wax indignant If someone mentions drugs. You once were commissar in charge Of hunting down the thugs.
So you practice prohibition Jail young folk for their good And crow ad nauseum of wins Stained deep in foreign blood.
But where's your shriek on alcohol? On spirits of distill? Does legal status leave you free To dip into their till?
The taxless lunch of cozy chaff With those of tidy sum Whose parents scored the wealth they flaunt By legging demon rum.
And what about them good old boys From down tobacco row? Their lobby bangs a lowly drum And hush funds pall their show.
What really gets your goat is sex It won't be taught in school. When Dr. Elders spoke a truth She threatened virtue's rule.
So you and Pat ganged up on her - Ordered her contrition With all those unctuous hypocrites - The Christian Coalition.
And don't those gays have you in flux? You say we must be fair. ‘Til they want sex or level field Your tolerance ends there.
You love the sinner not the sin It’s not for genes but choice. A bargain spawned of mal intent Proclaimed from deepened voice
You read the bible, as we know A deep and pious man. And often cite Leviticus To front your master plan.
You preach that welfare is for bums From on altar high. But greed brings down big business? The state will resupply.
We should have far less government The needy can piss off. While you and all your corporate buds Slurp from the public trough.
Have you supported gun control Or thrown up old canards? It's mostly inner city types Shot dead in their front yards.
So you fight to save tobacco And access to all guns There soon will be far less of them To share your hard-earned funds.
Your crowd has learned the new game well The modern feudalist. Your rank well-couched in subtlety Beneath you all is grist.
The wrong is inequality The country's oldest curse You trickle down the meanest bits With fists clenched on the purse.
A moralist needs enemies Say drugs or dregs or drags, Thanks much for coming down the mount To rid us of our plagues.
The ‘death of outrage’ you proclaim, In pietistic schtick Empower (rich) America Ah Billy, you're so slick.
Copyright Paul Heno 2000
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