<<To Those Who Have Lost Their Lovers at War>>

We’re forced not to leave this fanfaronade
We’re sure this is just part of a serenade
Away from our states we are ready-made
To rehearse a majestic harlequinade
The Chief Executive’s common crusade
Who is harbored with a fresh lemonade
In the white House’s nestling stockade
No matter if my beloved’s missed in this charade
Perhaps she’s strolling in a promenade
Or is enjoying drinking a limeade
Or is just crying for me in a palisade
Oh I will not trade her for this pasquinade
Oh some shrapnel from a cannonade
Is
To abrade
My heart.