To be, or not to be: that is the question,
Whether 'tis nobler to flip or to flop, like a fishmonger's ware,
The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,
Taketh pride in the firing, as poor Seamus shall bear.
Lo' the Rick, Lord of Sanctorum, as of the Holy
Thrusts asunder the demons of immorality and impiety,
So as to cure all ills and transgressions,
Thus possessed of the unwashed that walk among the Godly.
Ask not the Newt, for which he think,
But onliest watch for actions committed.
Be he teacher of men, or lobbyist of Lords,
He must be sharethed by all, lest he divorce asunder.
O' scissorshands of fate, with blades sharp as tax man's pen,
To cut and pare and shrinketh that which is bequethed to thee.
Thou impress as a man of peace,
But in thine heart lies a dual nature, scorn and oppression.
To be or not to be, to live or to die.
The status quo, one must truley ask why,
For on yon morrow, GOP must decide,
To goeth forward, or doth backslide.
Yay I say to thee, THAT is the question.