The chief is stricken, O woe betide

The so disrupted realm

When afflictions thus descend

On the chieftan at the helm.

 

To think that virus should so precede

The vaccine on the ready;

Surely, some plot has been afoot,

Some vile Chinese perfidy.

 

And should the chief be quarantined,

Like some gilded parrot,

Pray, what fate may overtake

Amy Coney Barret?

 

And what of the campaign to terminate

The wicked opposition,

That poses as democrat

But is on disloyal mission?

 

How can the gods be witness to

His captain’s bad exit,

When the realm needs four more years

Of his incomparable wit?

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