David Martin
DCDave.com

2014

Let’s hear it for our propagandists, 
The people who bring us the news. 
Unencumbered by troublesome scruples, 
They’re proud of their compromised views.
There once was a time we admired them. 
We thought they were principled fighters, 
But what we see now is more worthy 
Of the Union of Soviet Writers
That they should be liberty’s guardians 
Is truly a shame and a pity, 
These shills and these flacks, 
These stooges and hacks, 
These sold-out scribes 
Who report on the tribes 
Who rule from our capital city.

Let’s hear it for news commentators, 
Those masters of punditry, 
Who share with us all their opinions, 
Wide-ranging from A down to B. 
Standing right there in the spotlight, 
They could do some significant things, 
But we’d sooner expect wooden puppets 
To dance without handles or strings. 
Impressing no one but their colleagues, 
They’re not even learned or witty, 
These shills and these flacks, 
These stooges and hacks, 
These sold-out scribes 
Who report on the tribes 
Who rule from our capital city.

Let’s hear it for all those reporters 
Who learn how the contest is played. 
If they will just write what’s expected 
They can be handsomely paid, 
But most garner practically nothing 
And eventually fall off the ladder. 
The losers depart mostly wiser, 
While the winners grow gradually sadder. 
Let’s hear it for all those survivors 
Whose road to the top is not pretty, 
These shills and these flacks, 
These stooges and hacks, 
These sold-out scribes 
Who report on the tribes 
Who rule from our capital city.

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