Bobby Jindal, we’re told, in Baton Rouge was chained,
And for eight years he there remained;
He never complained, nor did he vent,
While he waited to run for president
So he could torment the soul of a nation
With moral bankruptcy and deprivation.
He asked of ALEC, wouldn’t it be grand
To become the leader of all the land?
ALEC said yes, it would be loads of fun
But there’re things you should know, son;
The media there ain’t lazy and they surely ain’t dumb
And they’ll chew on you like a big chicken drum.
A poll was taken for his groundwork to be a-layin’
Only to see him finish behind Sarah Palin;
Then appeared the devil with a contract he drew
For Jindal to run against Mary Landrieu;
But the deal was nixed and Satan to hell returned
Leaving Bobby with so much to be learned.
You don’t arrive with promises of transparency
And then deal from the bottom for all to see;
You don’t sell out our state, or from where we sit
The cloak of higher ambition will never fit;
You don’t enrich your friends on the backs of the poor
Or you’ll find your poll numbers down in the sewer.
You see, Bobby Jindal, the truth you’ve not discerned
Is that respect as a leader must first be earned.
You and your donors have surely had your fun
But you will never be elected to Washington;
Your honor is shot; all your political capital spent,
So don’t think for a minute you’ll ever be president.
—(With apologies to the anonymous composer of Hell in Texas)