A Street Named McCain

(To the tune of A Horse with No Name)

John the Navy flier

Was known for crashing planes.

But he had every opportunity;

He was Navy royalty.

He flew from the Forrestal when it went up in flames.

Then he flew with judgment unsound.

They shot his final airplane down;

His future had been found.

In Kiev they're naming a street for McCain;

He's popular in Ukraine.

Such a warmonger deserves our disdain,

But the whole world has gone completely insane.

Q, Q, Qanon, non

Qanon, Qanon, non.

Q, Q, Qanon, non

Qanon, Qanon, non.

The enemy, they had a prize;

You can't believe what he's said.

His legend is a pack of lies;

He might as well have been a Red.

The story he's told is not exactly gold;

Believe the other captives instead.

In Kiev they're naming a street for McCain;

He's popular in Ukraine.

Such a warmonger deserves our disdain,

But the whole world has gone completely insane.

Q, Q, Qanon, non

Qanon, Qanon, non.

Q, Q, Qanon, non

Qanon, Qanon, non.

The men of the spy ship Liberty

Know of what the man was made:

Honor, trust, and decency

Were only things to give in trade.

His conscience was a desert, his soul underground,

With a shabby disguise above.

No trace of virtue in him was found;

Just the sort they want us to love.

In Kiev they're naming a street for McCain;

He's popular in Ukraine.

Such a warmonger deserves our disdain,

But the whole world has gone completely insane.

Q, Q, Qanon, non

Qanon, Qanon, non.

Q, Q, Qanon, non

Qanon, Qanon, non.

Q, Q, Qanon, non

Qanon, Qanon, non.

Q, Q, Qanon, non

Qanon, Qanon, non.

And on and on...

David Martin

Home page Poetry Poetry Archive 15 Contact