Ignoring the calls to resign
he claims that his record’s benign
His touch is malignant
but Blago’s indignant
and says that he’ll fight down the line
The senate appointment is tainted
in spite of appointee who’s sainted
Rod ain’t got a clue
It’s over, he’s through:
His cell in the pen’s being painted
As newsmen and cameras stare
he jogs down the street through the glare
He’s running in place
from public disgrace
A cellmate will blow dry his hair
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