The Creation of Mad Stevie: Sorry Robert Service

A CULTURE OF DEFIANCE: History of the Reform-Conservative Party of Canada

The Creation of Mad Stevie

There were strange things done for political fun
By a man whose blood runs cold;
His campaign trails have their secret tales
Of pure cunning as they unfold;

And while election nights, have seen queer sights
The queerest we ever did see
Was when we let down our guard, and without reward
We elected Mad Stevie

Now Mad Stevie is from Calgary

Though Toronto born and bred

Why he left that place to get in our face

T'was a decision we now all dread

He was always cold, and the tales he told

Were of a Canada he could sell;

Though he'd often say, in his evil way

"he'd sooner put us through hell."

But in our Canadian way, we gave him his day

At the end of that campaign trail.

Then the air turned cold! Because we were not told

That the devil would now prevail.

So our eyes we closed, as Mad Stevie imposed

a blackout to history;

The media were shunned, now our country was run

In unheard of secrecy.

And every night, we are treated to the sight

of Mad Stevie on the go,

Photos on planes, photos with Danes

Even photos with Marilyn Munroe.

And if you wonder, or sometimes ponder,

What he does with all those pics;

He lines the halls, and plasters the walls;

The narcissist's daily fix

Yes it seems quite low, but you have to know;

That Mad Stevie's not quite right in the head:

It's his cursèd cold, that has taken hold,

He doesn't govern but dictates instead.

So what have we done, for political fun?

And what's happened while we were asleep?

Well hold on tight and I'll tell you tonight,

Because he's got us in trouble deep."

The first thing to tank, was our once sound banks,

As he sold out to AIG;

And when things went south, he opened his mouth;

And bought them for you and me.

Bought what you ask, what was this task?

That has us in trouble deep;

Bought all sub-prime, 125 billion and a dime

All that's left is for us to weep.

But that's not all, he had the gall

to pat himself on the back,

And though we're in a mess, he won't confess,

That our finances are out of whack;

Tighten your belts, he's always felt:

While adding more holes to his own

"I need more cash", he cries unabashed

His house of cards starts to moan.

"And I want a lake, we'll make it fake

And gazebos will dot the land.

And in days to come, I'll beat you numb,

You'll never see my slight of hand.

"In my month long flight, I'll stay out of sight,

Others will take the fall,

For census woes and heartless blows

I'm mute and on the ball.

"But I'm no fool, a circus school

I've built for my next career;

Because I know, that Canadians so

want to kick me out on my rear."

"But it's not just me", he cried with glee

"Stockwell Day is raving mad;

He sees criminal acts, and without any facts

Is building more prisons; the cad

"And what about Gail Shea, who was in a play

With Tilly Oneil-Gordon

It was closed first night, with not a patron in sight

Their careers now clearly done

"Or Jim Prentice, who got off the fence

And started making stuff up

We have no plan, and yet this man

Packed his release with a wallop

"And Peter MacKay, who sees to this day

the Ruskies on the attack;

'The sky is falling', how appalling

so why not get on his back?

"Or that Vic Toews, who everyone knows,

is a sorry excuse for a man

Or Dean Del Mastro, who everyone knows,

Could always use a good kick in the can

"I've prorogued before, I can prorogue some more

Just you wait and see

I'll lock up this place, and if you show your face

I'll make you a detainee

"And I'll not have to pay, 'cause I'll call it a day

And go on a photo-op

There's an empty wall, in the bathroom stall

Just begging for a pic of my yop

"And I've got me a Guy, who you'll rarely see

He's my Joseph Goebbels from Hell

He'll keep you away and make innocents pay

He does his job very well

"And Dimitri Soudas and John Baird the bad ass

Are ready to growl, snap and bite;

So if you want to rumble, It's you who will tumble

'Cause I'm your dictator for life."

But then came a sound, that has rarely been found

In a country not known for aggression

One day all awoke, and a new leader spoke

"I will make his downfall, my obsession"

So I'll finish my tale, and in this I won't fail

Because the ending is one of pure joy

We had our election, and made our selection

And finally got rid of our boy

There were strange things done for political fun

Good sense was clearly lacking

But we're finally awake, when Democracy was at stake,

And we've sent Mad Stevie packing