Outside the hospice,
The doctors announced
That even though Terry was breathing,
She could not respond to any noise
And that continued feeding
Was wrong--out the tube.
They said that the pictures
That showed her with some "smiles"
Were deceptive, because she had no life. . .
The accusers were riled

They knew--they were smart--
What's best for her heart.
So they called upon Tom D to start
To call for the heads
Of those in the art
Of healing, who'd not agree.

The theme of his "sermon" was:
"Listen to me! You'll do it my way!"
The rally was organized by his whore lads
Who piqued the crowd to pray.
He spent his venom on guys like medics
Who do not bow down and worship him.
He fakes his grief and fakes belief
And fakes it in church Sunday.

Tom D had street smarts,
Feigned a bleeding heart,
But after that he did start
To call for the heads
Of those who were part
Of the judiciary.

He played to the sticks
And they started singing--
Gospel music they mimed.
Group after group then vented its rage,
It was for the media timed.
If they'd had nails
They'd have done a crucifixion.
And then have linked it to Roe.
Terry's brother finally
Requested that they all scram,
But away some would not go.

The crowd went crazy,
Tom D'd started to rage.
Teleprompter wires crossed,
And the image was lost.
He couldn't read the page.

This rat, it is clear, was their ruler,
So Tom D gave a lesson
To all of those
Godless "activist judges."
He leapt on the rostrum,
He looked, on the stage, like a short Hitler figure,
Though no mustache on face.
Tom D told the crowd
That what was happening
Was a big disgrace.

Tom D had street smarts,
Feigned a bleeding heart
But after that he did start
To call for the heads
Of those who were part
Of the judiciary.

But he didn't bare
His soul to the crowd
'Bout back a few years.
Tom D wasn't then preaching
When his "father's" end was near.
"He's all but died, so let's not try
Artificially prolong life."
Pulled the plug fast.
And the hearse-driving man
Had to carry dad from sight.

Some louts went crazy--
Jeb, Dubya--tried to change
Some of the country's laws,
Their ugly noses stuck
Where they had no place.

Umpteen judges could not be right,
And neither could
All the know-nothing doctors.
Terry's salvation was the professed mission
Of haughty holy-rollers.
Tom D had for himself a field day
When his dimlightbulbs went wild.
Tom D was smug and continued to speak--
Up and up and up it piled.

Tom D played it smart
So news would divert
From felonies of which he was part.
Didn't really care--
Used his acting art--
At all about Terry.