-> "Hand Count"
Original Song Title:
Parody Song Title:
Parody Written by:
Keith K. Higa
Hey Mike, this is John over in Broward. Are you guys getting the same results as we are?
Uh, yes sir, Big John, for sure, for sure, we're getting razor thin margins here too.
I hear you, Mike...less than one half of one percent...mercy sakes alive, looks like we got us a hand count.
We can still remember 7 November
Election Day, it was
Me and the boys and that four year choice
(It's better 'n pullin' straws)
'Twas the race for the White House: Bush or Gore
Or Nader (bless his heart)
'Til somethin' stuck that fateful night
And things just fell apart
'Cause we got a little hand count
Rolling through the night,
Yes, we've got a little hand count
Ain't she a beautiful sight?
Come on and join our hand count
Ain't nothin' gonna make us wait,
We gonna roll this little hand count
Across the Gator State.
Hey Joe, this is Phil at NBC. Your phones are ringing off the hook too?
Oh yeah, Phil, we've got angry callers on our backs. You too?
For sure, for sure, I saw we take those exit pollers, stand 'em against the wall, and shoot 'em...
By the time the networks came on air
They had thought that Al had won,
Then Dubya came back full of fire
The fun had just begun,
Too close to call, the networks said,
In Florida, my friend,
The count continued through the night,
Oh, when will this thing end?
'Cause we got a great big hand count...
Hey John, this is Mike over in Miami-Dade, are you gettin' the same problems as we're havin'?
If you're talkin' about holes not punched through, yeah, we got 'em, too!
No wonder that dumb machine couldn't read 'em! I hate dimpled chad...
Now Palm Beach had this real strange ballot
Printed on both sides
A vote for Pat or a vote for Al?
It's difficult to decide
Then Harris decides she cannot wait
She wants to certify
But Gore decides he cannot let her
Leave him high and dry
An appeal, an appeal, and appeal some more
An endless stream of suits
'Til the Florida S.C. came on board
And made the whole thing moot
With all the courts of full alert
And legal wars, I swear
That come next year I really feel
That White House will be bare...
Hey, Mike, this is John in Broward, what are you gonna do about those undercounts?
Well, the Kat over in Tallahassee says we can't put 'em in, we missed the deadline.
I say we put 'em in anyway. I'd like to tell her where she can stick that deadline...
By the time December rolled around
The margin was still too close
But then the Supreme Court got the case
Our hand count they'd oppose,
We said, "Washington, this is Florida,
"We ain't a-gonna stop our poll,"
So our S.C. ruled, the combat fueled,
They said, "Let that hand count roll (go Gore)."
'Cause we got a mighty hand count... (etc.)
[over fade out]
Hey there, Big John, what's the good word?
CONCEDED?!? Well, he sure knows when to walk away and when to run don't he?
Time to close up shop boys. Throw those ballots into the shredder, will you?
See you in four years...and don't forget to lock the door on your way out...
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