Those of you who do recall
that beloved, rather tall
TV hero, Elmer Fudd
will be fans of Kevin Rudd.
He is timid, he is plastic,
up against the sly, bombastic,
still encumbent apparatus,
which disperses lots of flatus.
Howard, ageing and confused,
secretly he's been abused
by that swine-ear balding fellow
known to all as Pete Costello.
Still, he knows the road ahead
vote for Howard or dropp dead!
Saved each penny, had them polished,
thus the myth did get demolished
of his fiscal true credentials,
yes, he knew about essentials
had a barn built for the stash
as his motto was SAVE CASH!
Now it comes (you see?) quite handy,
truckloads of the stuff, that's dandy
spend it where the people scream,
Howard will be on your team.
Hospitals and schools and busses,
all add up as crucial plusses,
get the freak that looks so basic
like Miss Piggy, multiphasic,
show the people who's their master
who can save them, stall disaster,
while our Kevin sits and ponders
on the global sense and wonders
what if anything he misses
(no, it isn't Johnny's kisses) .
PEEP, he says but no one hears,
which just adds to my own fears
that this diplomat's cease fire,
which a few of you admire,
might assure that, after all,
you will BE there, at the ball,
hold your hand up, still expecting,
that of those who were defecting
but returned to ride the wave
acting sober, proud and brave,
one would be the trusted bearer
and an arid land seafarer
hand the key to you right then,
make you leader of all men.
Sorry, buddy, I am certain
that they'll pull the final curtain
if you do not act the MAN!
You must utter 'YES I CAN! '
Otherwise you'll be forgotten
soon, when weeds are truly rotten
I, for one shall have a cry,
asking you, why, oh just WHY?