Open Thread

Sam Brownback is running for President. Our problems are over, dude.

The screen door slams, Sam Brownback’s press weaves
Like a vision he dances across the porch as the radio plays
Roy Orbison singing for the lonely
Hey, that’s Sam and I want Sam only
Don’t turn me home again, I just can’t face myself alone again
Don’t run back inside, Sammy, you know just what I’m here for
So you’re scared and you’re thinking that maybe you won’t run anymore
Show a little faith, there’s magic in the night
You ain’t a beauty but, hey, your morals are right
Oh, and that’s alright with me

You can hide ‘neath your consultants and study your pain
Make crosses from your lovers, throw roses in the rain
Waste your summer praying in vain
For a savior to rise from these streets
Well now, Sam’s no hero, that’s understood
All the redemption he can offer, girl, is beneath this dirty hood
With a chance to make it good somehow
Hey, what else can we do now?
Except roll down the window and let Sam’s wind blow back your hair
Well, the night’s busting open, these two lanes will take us anywhere
We got one last chance to make it real
To trade in these wings on some wheels
Climb in back, heaven’s waiting on down the tracks

Author: BooMan

Martin Longman a contributing editor at the Washington Monthly. He is also the founder of Booman Tribune and Progress Pond. He has a degree in philosophy from Western Michigan University.