| All. | Double, double, toil and trouble,
Shredder churn and coffee bubble. |
| H. | Fetch me up a legal pad
Think of things that turned out bad, Mild transgressions if confessed, That might have made the man depressed, Some foul-up in the legal biz, It need not be entirely his, The better should it minor be, And surely not a felony. |
| M. | This is tough, for goodness sakes,
Let's just say he made mistakes, I know you say we don't need many But I can't really think of any. |
| S. | Okay, then let's move along.
Let's have him write we did no wrong, That no matter what we say They won't believe us anyway. |
| H. | Good, that gets us off the hook
For all the liberties we took, But still I think they'll need to find Some reasons for his troubled mind, Things that made the man decide To end it all with suicide. |
| M. | What about the folks who lie
In the GOP and the FBI? And the lack of inhibition In the Wall Street Journal's inquisition? |
| S. | I think it sounds a trifle petty
For one we knew as strong and steady. We'd take a chance if we should try it, I fear the press would never buy it. |
| H. | Oh, if ‘tis watchdogs that you fear,
Worry not, we have none here. Whatever we should do or say They're trained to look the other way. |
| S. | Then as it's written, let it stand,
Now have it put in Foster's hand. |
| M. | When shall we three meet again?
In thunder, lightning, or in rain. |
| H. | When the hurly-burly's done
When the battle's lost and won. |
| S. | Why must we even meet at all?
Let's just do a conference call. |
| All. | Double, double, toil and trouble
Shredder churn and coffee bubble. |
| David Martin |
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