A Coalition Christmas Story
T’was three weeks before Christmas, when all through the house
The opposition was stirring, even
The dealings were waved in front of noses in the air,
In hopes that a Coalition soon would be there.
The Blocs were nestled all snug in their beds,
While visions of separatism danced in their heads.
And Jack in his ‘kerchief, and Stéphane - the sap,
Had just settled down for a long winter’s nap.
When all across the country there arose such a clatter,
Dion insisted, it didn’t really matter.
Away out the window, he threw with a flash,
The results of the election, amid the backlash.
The moon on the breast of
Suggested she might still be able to play.
When, what to her wondering eyes should appear,
But a weasely Frenchman with promises dear.
With a little old driver, so lively and quick,
I knew in a moment it was Jack Layton, the dick.
More rapid than eagles his coursers they came,
And he whistled, and shouted, and called them by name
"Now Dion! now, Duceppe! Now Mays - you vixen!
Let’s get together, It’s time to Listen!
To the top of the porch! to the top of the wall!
Let’s unite! Let’s unite! Separatists and all!"
And then, in a twinkling, they heard on the roof
The prancing and pawing of Canadians, not aloof.
They drew in their heads, and turned around,
And down the chimney St Harper came with a bound.
He was dressed all in gold, from his head to his feet,
Letting them know he wouldn’t be easy to defeat.
A bundle of Tories he had flung on his back,
And he looked like a King, with nothing to lack.
His eyes-how they glared! his fists, how clenched!
He stands for democracy, and won’t see it trenched!
His droll little mouth was drawn up in a sneer,
For the governor-general soon would appear.
And the smoke it caused encircled his head like a wreath.
He had a stern face and a little round belly,
And wanted to bury Dion in a bowlful of jelly!
Harper was elected by Canadians, voted in fair,
Not a Weasel, not a Separatist, not the guy with no hair!
With them getting together, it will have to be said,
Canadians will face the future with dread.
Harper spoke not a word, but went straight to his work,
Shook his head in disgust, then turned to the jerk.
And laying his middle finger aside of his nose,
And giving a nod, up the chimney he rose!
He sprang to his sleigh, to his team gave a shout,
Trying to teach Canadians, what this is about.
And I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of sight,
"This is the end of democracy, C’mon lets fight!"