(To tune of, “Here Comes Santa Clause,” by Gene Autry and Oakley Halderman)

Cruz and Rubio
Cruz and Rubio
Pulling another stunt
Phony Blustering,
as party leaders grunt.

Sounding like two candidates
pretending to be friends
Come the ’16 great debates
they’ll show us how a friendship ends

Cruz and Rubio
Cruz and Rubio
Far right’s brightest pair
Plain folks don’t mean a thing.
Money’s everything.
Brazenly they dare.

“Let’s close the government,” they shout
to make a pointless point
Instead they both should mellow out,
Smoke a medically prescribed strong joint

Cruz and Rubio.
Cruz and Rubio.
Argue who’s more right.
Stop those Mexicans,
some call Texicans.
Deport them out of sight

Even Boehner shakes his head.
They’re way, way off the scales.
Not careful how they make their bed,
they’ll end up sleeping on sharp nails

Cruz and Rubio
Cruz and Rubio
Think they’re Obama’s bane
So unrealistic,
and narcissistic,
Says Senator McCain

If one became the President
the middle class would smart.
Don’t want a right-wing President,
another tin-man there without a heart.

Lyric © 2013 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved


(To tune of, Suicide is Painless,” by Johnny Mandel and Mike Altman, the theme song from the movie and T.V. series M*A*S*H)

The sentinels of righteous right
are dangerous and too uptight.
Obstructionism’s losing sight
of what should light this country’s light

Governing’s not tactics.
It takes us only backwards.
How long will voters put up with this crap?

The House defunds Obamacare.
A futile effort, they don’t care.
A world grown skeptical of where
Democracy’s now very weird.

Governing’s not tactics.
They’ve got the whole thing backwards.
How long will voters put up with this crap?

Reform for immigration sits
As yet another good man quits.
For wise men congress is the pits.
So, leave it to the worst nitwits.

Republicans say “trust us.”
No mercy but swift justice.
How long will voters put up with this crap?

Lyric © 2013 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved


(To tune of “Devil or Angel,” by Blanche Carter and first recorded by The Clover’s in 1955 and later by Bobby Vee)

Devil or devil?
Which one do we choose?
Assad or a rebel?
Whomever wins, we lose.
We know he’s a devil –
a real Catch-22.
We oust him; a worse one, will follow.

Devils rule Egypt.
When strangers interfered.
They only changed devils.
No savior has appeared.
Morsi was no angel,
He smiled with devil eyes.
We’re stupid, we’re stupid, we’re stupid

Make a deal with one devil,
to keep others under rocks.
We open, when we meddle,
a real Pandora’s Box.

Devil or Devil?
This game is not our game.
They’ve old scores to settle.
The West can share some blame.
Assad is the devil?
The next one will be too.
We oust him; the world is, no better.

Lyric © 2013 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved


(To tune of, “I Wish I Were in Love Again,” by Richard Rodgers and Lorenz Hart)

Sirs Dodd and Frank
proposed a bank,
If caught self-trading, would receive a spank.
And while we’re waiting for the rules to crank,
The banks are out of line again

The banks complain,
“This isn’t Spain!”
Tough regulations were the root of pain.
Yes, I’d believe that, if I had no brain.
The banks are out of line again

Making bets.
Incurring debts.
Time forgets, that,
bankers had to be bailed-out.

So, what’s so new?
That’s what banks do.
But, take our money and then say F-you.
Now Volcker’s fuming ‘cause,
The banks are out of line again.

Back to school.
Best not fool,
with Volcker’s rule, lest,
You want another disaster.

But banks have clout.
They’ll whine and pout.
And congress listens when the big-bucks shout.
The foul pot’s stewing, and,
The banks are out, of line again.

Lyric © 2013 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved


(To tune of traditional children’s song, “She’ll be Coming Round the Mountain”)

Shall we vote on immigration?
No, we shan’t.
Shall we vote to fund the nation?
No we can’t.
No, we’ll spend good time on drama,
flaunting health care and Obama,
cause our right-wing delegation
wants to rant.

Shall we go on with obstruction?
Yes we shall.
Keep that R&D deduction
for our pals?
We think Rubio is dreadful.
Of baloney he’s a head full.
But we hate Obama, that’s our

Lyric © 2013 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved


The U.S. Internal Revenue Code (Code) is said to contain 4 million words (See, “Taming the tax doe beast,” by George Will, Washington Post). There are 884,421 words in Shakespeare’s 43 works (  Which is more worthy of its wordiness?  Tax reform is sorely needed.


(To the tune of folk song, “500 miles,” by Hedy West, recorded by many including The Journeymen and Peter Paul and Mary)

Try to read the Code my son
You’d be dead before you’re done
It would take a life to run
4 million words

Words that no one understands
Try and you’d throw up your hands
No one begged for or demands
4 million words

4 million words, 4 million words
To enact 4 million words
Breeds a fact that is absurd
4 million words

What brings dread? What brings fear?
I would rather read Shakespeare
Must we deal with every year?
4 million words?

With each tax return you file
Words are added by the mile
Stir that cauldron of tax bile
4 million words

4 million words, 4 million words
Do we need 4 million words?
Nay, ‘twas politics that spurred
4 million words

Lyric © 2013 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved


President Obama had unwisely declared that the use of poison gas in Syria would be a game-changer, a red-line event.  Now he asserts that line has been crossed by the Syrian regime.  Yet, he hesitates to back up his admonition.  In my view, he should not have publicly announced a red-line and the U.S. should not intervene in the Syrian civil war.  But now the credibility of the U.S. President is on the line.  So, do we drop bombs and launch missiles to salvage reputation?  Does anyone really believe that launching a few missiles against Syria on conflicted evidence that it was the Syrian government that ordered Saran gas to be deployed will deter Iran from continuing its efforts to obtain a nuclear weapon?  The President has already been revealed as uncertain; the damage already done need not be exacerbated by a starting another misguided war that will unleash who knows what.  Who will benefit from our action? Certainly not the Syrian people, more of whom have died from bombs and guns than from gas. Passing off the decision to congress has activated a furious episode of political calculation.  What stirs deepest consternation is the sound of the cynical D.C. minds clicking away at deciding which side to take for political advantage.

(To tune of “Undecided” by Charles Shavers and Sid Robin (1939))

First he says he will
And then he won’t
Biden says, “We must.”
But then he don’t
He’s undecided and
A President must decide

Now he’s says it’s on
And then it’s off
Then he says, “We’ll see,”
World leaders scoff.
He’s undecided and
A President must decide.

He’s been sitting on the fence
While the whole world’s in suspense
They declare his words are all pretense
In big headlines
He said he’d back down that Assad
But, the angry Arab wouldn’t nod
Now he hesitates to use the rod
Why draw red-lines?

Truman said, “The buck
stops here,” until,
Obama passed the buck
Onto the Hill.
He’s undecided and
A President must decide.

Lyric © 2013 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved


It seems to me that today’s world is more about material things than ideas.
We consume, are taught and encouraged to consume.  Instead of thinking about the world we self-indulge in our own world.  Twitter messages or Facebook posts cannot convey the insights and ideas of the likes of Joseph Conrad, “The horror, the horror!” (Heart of Darkness), Victor Hugo, “The miserable,” (Les Miserables) or Dostoyevsky, “The Grand Inquisitor,” (The Brothers Karamazov).  As a culture we are no longer reading serious writers with serious ideas.  We amuse ourselves.  But, amusement distracts from what is important in the world.  Absent our own ideas, germinated from interacting with great minds, we adopt the media spin.  We accept propaganda as truth.  We relish chain emails that reinforce our narrow-minded views.  In doing so, we sell our souls to the devil.  We slowly yet certainly eviscerate our treasured democracy.



(To tune of “But Not for Me,” by George and Ira Gershwin)

Don’t know what’s good for me
So they decide
Don’t know what I should be
So they decide

I live in ignorance
A dull consuming trance
No will to take a chance
So I abide

Don’t know the price I pay
When I agree
Go shopping twice a day
That’s being free?

But freedom’s all amiss
When ignorance is bliss
Then I don’t even miss
What’s good for me.

Lyric © 2013 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved