Get Along Home, Cindy, Cindy (a poem)

With a tip of the hat to the memory of the Man in Black, Mr. Johnny Cash

That shrill and sour apple has fallen from her tree, Cindy Sheehan's time has passed, the Lefties set her free.

Get along, home, Cindy, Cindy, get along home. Get along home, Cindy Sheehan, they wish you'd go away.

Once Cindy was their honey-nut, she was their Golden Star, but when she cracked their Left wing-nuts, this nut had gone too far.

Get along, home, Cindy, Cindy, get along home. Get along home, Cindy Sheehan, they want you far away.

When Cindy led the evening news, they let her bleat and blow, but when she dissed their Liberal views, was time for her to go.

Get along, home, Cindy, Cindy, get along home. Get along home, Cindy Sheehan, you're just so yesterday.

When Cindy got religion, the Left built her a church, but when she turned her other cheek they left her in a lurch.

Get along, home, Cindy, Cindy, get along home. Get along home, Cindy Sheehan, please go home and stay.

She did Crawford in the summer time, Caracas in the fall, but now she's not the gal they want so her big world's getting small.

Get along, home, Cindy, Cindy, get along home. Get along home, Cindy Sheehan, you blew your chance to play.

Cindy's now just history, she hangs her head and cries, the Moonbats hung her out to dry, one bat they now despise.

Get along, home, Cindy, Cindy, get along home. Get along home, Cindy Sheehan, they buried you today.

Russ Vaughn
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