Twas the night before Scott Walker Recall Day, at the Capitol Square.

Not a protester was stirring, but the media were there.
The microphones were set up next to the CNN tour bus...



In the hope local politicos would soon kick up a fuss.
When out by the monument, there arose such a clatter,
Meade sprang from his B-Cycle to see what was the matter.
He grabbed for his iPhone and opened the app,
Looked for the shutter and started to snap.



With a lovely lady driver, so lively and quick,
She was smoking what some folks call a cancer stick.



So up to Heg's statue the Freedom Van drew,
With flowers and angels and a militant capitalist smoker too.



It was Lynda all in blue from her head to her foot,
And these clothes were not tarnished with ashes and soot.



Her friend wore Clay Matthews' number 52 on her back,
Who is Clay Matthews? He's one of The Pack!

The stump of a cigarette Lynda held in her teeth,
And the smoke it encircled her head like a wreath.
She had a sweet face and a cute little belly,
That shook when she laughed, like a bowl full of jelly!



"The truth shall make you free," the van bumper said.
And that gave Meade to know he had nothing to dread.



"Vote Walker for Governor" — then, 'cause she's one of those jokers,
She wrote: "But Walker, please keep promises to smokers."
Meade sprang to his bike, and he rang the little bell,
And away Meade then flew like a bat out of hell.



Lynda heard him exclaim as he drove out of sight,
"Let Walker finish his term, and to all a good-night!"