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Listen, my children, and you shall hear Stories of lawyers both famed and feared, Laurence and Warren, James Baker the Third, D. Boies, T. Olson, George Terwilliger, Ginsberg, Martinez, and big Alan D, Joe Klock, Ron Klain, and Kendall Coffey. They descended en masse, equipped for a fuss, By plane or by train — Tallahassee or bust. Big firms and small firms, solos galore, Academics, prosecutors, two-bit … Al Gores. Wannabe spoilers, out for a fight. Richard and Carvin, take back the right! Once at state lines, there were more lawyers still. More lawyers! Believe it. Think of the bills. Steel Hector & Davis, a Miami crew, Greenberg Traurig, the proud, not the few, Holland & Knight, who withdrew from the fray, Then argued for access on judgment day. More lawyers? Please count ‘em. Bundles and bundles. Snapping like gators in the Everglades jungles. Angry and anxious, outraged and mad, Statesmanlike, pompous, and just plain bad. All kinds of lawyers ringing the bells, Clamoring, “Justice for all; the rest go to hell.” Punch hole by punch hole, ballots in tatters, Counting the votes until blinded and battered. To the Florida court the lawyers did fly, Again and again, “Relief!” they did cry. Multiple fora; confusing rulings, It’s not over ’til the fat lady sings. Reporting it all, from gavel to gavel, Lawyer-correspondents, mysteries unraveled. Toobin and Cossack, Greta Van Susteren, Geraldo Rivera, mustache and sideburns. NBC’s Danny, and Cahill’s man Floyd Abrams, the son and the father, employed. But something is missing, amid all the dreck, Where’s Johnnie and Robert, F. Lee and B. Scheck? O.J.’s defenders, the dream of the bar, Whose rhetorical trappings verged on bizarre. Don’t courthouse cameras make great TV? Dimpled chads, swinging chads — Democracy! So many lawyers running the nation, Nearly a million seethe with frustration. Each one unhappy in his own way, A Russian novel couldn’t be more gray. Yet every year students take the plunge, To law school they go, despite the grunge. So hang a lantern in the Old North Church, Warn the neighbors they’re coming to berth. One if by land, two if by sea, Three or more � it’s the presidency! Like festival barkers out on the piers Let’s welcome the circus for four more years.

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