"The Wreck of the Hillary Campaign"
(Tune of “Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald”)
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9vST6hVRj2A
The legend lives on from the Quinnipiac Poll on down
Of the big fake of inevitability.
The Great Lake States, it is said, never give up their dead
From the leaks in November by Comey.
With the cash all secure, a billion dollars more
Than the campaign had in ’15.
That campaign and crew were totally screwed.
When the fails of November came early.
The campaign was the pride of the Democratic side.
Coming back from some losses in Wisconsin.
As the campaigns go, it was bigger than most
With a crew and candidate well-seasoned.
But someone was concluding terms with Russian troll firms
When they left Philadelphia for Cleveland.
Then later that night when Brazile’s cell phone rang
Could it be the deplorables they'd been feelin'?
The tweets on turnout made a tattle-tale sound
When the wave broke over the railing.
And everyone knew, as Hillary did too
'Twas the switch in November come stealin'
It dawned on them late, the glass ceiling had to wait
When the leaks of November came crashin'.
As Comey came on, ‘twas emails again
Another Weiner-blocking momentum.
When press pool time came, Robbie Mook came on deck
Saying, "Fellas, it's too rough to feed ya."
At eleven PM her main firewall caved in
He said, "Fellas, it's been good to know ya."
Nate Silver wired a red wave was comin' in
And the work of the crew was in vain.
And later that night when the candidate went out of sight
Came the wreck of the Hillary Campaign.
Does anyone know where the love of voters go,
When a wave turns the precincts from ours?
The pundits all say she'd have made the Whitehouse that day
If she'd put five more visits behind her.
The party might have split up over Wasserman.
They may have Wikileaked and took water.
And all that remains are the lists and the names
Of the donors, celebrities and daughters.
Cheboygan rolls, Superior Wisconsin sings
Like the rooms in a Mar-a-Lago mansion
Old Michigan steams like Trump’s damp dreams
The women and babes are for sport’in.
And farther below, Lake Ontario
Takes in what Cleveland can send her.
And the Rustbelt goes, as the campaigners all know
With the wave of November remembered.
In an abandoned ruin in Detroit they prayed,
That once was a UAW cathedral,
The pollsters tolled 'til they counted seventy-six times
For each gap in the votes electoral.
The legend lives on from the Quinnipiac on down
Of the big fake of inevitability.
The Great Lake States, it is said, will never give up their dead
From the leaks in November by Comey.