Carry on my Wayward Prez

Having read Obama's "drone war lite" speech last week, followed by Glenn Greenwald and others ripping it, and Obamiac true believers to shreds, as I blogged here, the creative writing bulb went off in my head, and I started riffing on the rock group Kansas' classic "Carry on My Wayward Son."

Here you go:

Carry on my wayward prez

There’ll be peace when they are dead

Set your skyward drones to flight

Moralize no more

Once he hid behind the noise and confusion

Transparency became his illusion

He was soaring ever higher

But he soared too high

Though my eyes could see I still was a blind man
Though my mind could think I still was a mad man
I hear the voices when I'm dreaming
I hear O-BA-MA

(Refrain)

Masquerading as a man with a reason
His charade is the event of the season
And if he claims to be a wise man, well
It surely means that he don't know

On a frothy sea of moving emotion
Praised by Obamiacs without a notion
He sets a course of windy distortion
As voices say O-BA-MA

{Refrain
No!

Carry on, and always pontificate
Carry on, nothing but equivocate

Constitutional scholar-priest

Sweet legacy waits for you

Carry on my wayward prez

There’ll be peace when they are dead

Set your skyward drones to flight

Don’t you fret — Moralize no more

(And, when we found out that four American citizens have been killed by drones despite not being tried as civilians nor being part of an official enemy army, I riffed on "Four Dead in Ohio.")