'Twas the night before Fitzmas, when all through the house
not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse.
The papers were read by the accused with care,
fearing that Fitzgerald soon would be there.

The house aides were nestled all snug in their beds,
while visions of grand juries danced in their heads.
Dubya in his office, and I in my cap,
had just settled our brains for a long winter's nap.

When out on the net there arose such a chatter,
I sprang from my bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the 'puter I flew like a flash,
opened the emails, and devoured the trash.

The moon on the breast of the new-fallen snow
gave the lustre of midday to objects below,
when, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
but a stretch limosine and man without fear.

Young, eager, and driven, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. ... Fitz!
More rapid than eagles, most daring he came,
and he hollered and shouted and called them by name:

"Oh, Cheney, oh, Cheney!
You image of Nixon!
Karl Rove and Scooter,
fake news for war fixin'
It was all but a lie!
Read the signs on the wall!
Now go to jail! Go to jail!
Go to jail all!"

As dry leaves that before the wild hurricane fly,
when they meet with an obstacle, mount to the sky
so on to the court-house in handcuffs they flew,
with the car full of proof, and Fitzgerald too.

And then, in a twinkling, I heard of the news
the lieing and cheating of each little goof.
As the world in my head and I turned around,
from the news screen indictments came with a bound.

They were dressed in orange, from their heads to their feet,
and their names were all tarnished with ashes and shit.
A bundle of chains was put on their bare hands,
and they looked like such losers before all the grands.

In the White House, alone, a man, so small,
his cheeks were all ashen, he knew of his fall,
His droll little mouth was drawn up in a smirk,
for the country now knew that he was a jerk
He'd lied about war, he'd sent to their deaths,
thousands of men, to their last breaths.
To unite the country, divided by this,
much is needed, but not a wuss.