Twas the night before healthcare, when all through the house
Not a republican was willing, not one of them louse!
Their wallets were hung by the chimney with care;
In hopes that rich lobbyists would soon be there!
The children were all dying in their hospital beds,
While visions of transplant denials danced in their heads.
And mamma with her tissue, and I taking off my cap,
Was watching poor Timmy drift into his eternal nap.
When out in the lobby, there arose such a clatter,
I sprang from the hospital room to see what was the matter.
To the nurses station I flew like a flash
I asked the head nurse, “What the hell was that?”
With the smell of fresh printed money
Gave the luster of bailouts from the taxpayer loot
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear,
But a little caravan, of eight golden parachutes.
With a fat leader, so greedy and quick,
I knew in a moment it must be St. Capitalist.
More rapid than vultures his coursers they came
And he whistled and shouted, and called them by name!
“Now Aetna!, now AIG! Now, Wellpoint and Allstate! On Unum! On Conseco! On United Health care and State Farm!”
As the ink still runs on the claims of the wild hurricane still dry,
When the people met the obstacle of denials that stacked to the sky,
So to the billing department the coursers they flew,
With the caravan of insurance companies, and St. Capitalist too!
And then, in a twinkling, I heard from the roof,
The clicking and pawing of denial stamps from each of their fat little hoofs.
As I shook my head in disbelief, I barely had time to turn around
When down the hall St. Capitalist came with a bound.
He was dressed in fine linens, from his head to his shoes,
And his clothes were made at Asian sweatshops too!
A bundle of denial stamps he had flung on his back,
What a prick, he only came for that?
He was chubby and plump, what a mean old elf!
And I cringed when I saw him, thought I was going to be sick I told myself
A wink of his eye and a flick of his middle finger
Soon gave me to know, I had much more to dread
He spoke not a word, but went straight to his work
He filled all the wallets with fat lobbyist checks, all I could think was “What a jerk”!
And one more flick of his middle finger right in front of my nose, he gave a nod, and up the elevator he rose!
He sprang to the golden parachutes; to his team he gave a whistle,
And away they all flew like 8 nasty vultures.
But I heard him exclaim, ‘ere he drove out of site,
“Many denials to all, and to all, a painful death”