By Amy Silverman
By Olivia LaVecchia
By Monica Alonzo and Stephen Lemons
By Chris Parker
By Michael Lacey
By Weston Phippen
But the AldGrinch,
Who lives just north of the Capitol,
The AldGrinch hates Lawmaking!
The whole statute season!
Now, please don't ask why.
No one quite knows the reason.
It could be his new kidney--was it
put in all wrong?
It could be, perhaps, that he's been
'round too long.
But I think the most likely reason of all
Is his bola, his tie--
it's two sizes too small.
But, whatever the reason, His tie or his time,
He stood there, pre-Session, hating the slime--
THOSE REPS, in warm offices, talking with staff,
THOSE REPS, writing laws, as if laws were a laugh.
"And they'll all want their bills," he snarled, thinking fools.
"But I'll hold them as Speaker, as I did as
Then he slithered about, with a smile
He fired some staff; the rest left--'twas contagious.
They all knew the AldGrinch can bring you to tears,
Members, staff and the public--no one's free from his sneers.
Even Kolbe, curmudgeon, harrumpher, has said
That the reign of Don AldGrinch ought be met
Now, the Reps' place, in truth, is a House, not a home.
They yell and they curse there, they fight and they foam.
But the AldGrinch does manage to set quite a pace,
He's the meanest Lawmaker to set foot in that place.
For how many men have you known in your day,
To put grenades on the Floor, on their desks, just for play?