‘Twas the night before voting, when all through the land,
Every voter was fretting and wringing their hands.
Their clothing set out for the very next day
But how would they vote? Not a person could say!
So as they did toss, and they turned in their beds,
Visions of voter fraud danced in their heads.
And Mama with her Xanax, and I with Prozac,
Had just settled down for a bedtime snack.
When out on the lawn there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the bed to see what was the matter.
Away to the window, I flew like The Flash,
Tore open the shutters and threw up the sash.
When what to my wondering eyes should appear . . .