Politics is too much with us, late and soon;
We gave our governance to a buffoon.
This nation that sent our pilots to the moon!
But no stability in this circus do we see.
We fret and argue, and lay waste our liberty.
Yet tweets still boil up at all hours;
civility collapses like twin towers;
For this, for everything, we are out of tune;
they think he hung the moon!
These delusions sho'nuff shred our hope.
We jez gotta find some way to cope.
Maybe cruise on down some river . . .
to set our torn-up hearts a-quiver--
and help get us back to our deep roots.
No drain no swamp, but hear some toots:
Yeah down that river where jazz was born,
We'll hear ole Louie blow his horn!
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