He gleaned for himself considerable wealth

And crafted his own gilded tower

Power by rule, power by stealth

And to this task he was bent

The trek of this King that found him in Maine

Would trade him his palace, a tent

For a mansion of wood that was Blaine

A Governor who called himself King

Who knew of his final intent?

What of the wind? What will it bring?

Its breezes have subsidies sent

Bluster, a gale, a storm’s in the air

A powerful change could ensue

And more wealth is waiting out there

If such a King could get himself close

To one who is leading the Blue?

For subsidies, he has the most

The King needs the President

He advocates laws

That force us to buy

Just what the King wants to sell

Once under their paws

No matter the lies

We’ll all have to answer the bell

Now that this King is farming the wind

The laws state we must buy his farm

And if he fails we also must pay him to mend

It’s all just a system to rig

The President does it with charm

We pay it all!  What a gig!