Republicans Out of Power The icy winter wind, howling, howling Is Republicans out of power How hard it blows! ’Til trees sway and groan It strips their leaves And whips them into frenzied whirling piles With no real direction, full of angry rustle and rattle. There is less light now, less hope, more noise I pray for an early spring Where new life is so apparent That winter wind will be silenced Or, better still, forced to find a voice
