The Cremation of Canadian Democracy - With apologies to Robert Service

There are strange things done 'neath the Canadian sun
By politicians lusting for power;
The backroom boys have their techno-toys
That would make your blood go sour;
The ballot boxes have seen sly foxes,
But the slyest they ever did see
Was on election day, the second of May
When they butchered democracy.

In two thousand eleven, for the forty-first time, Canadians lined up to vote,
But some dirty tricks from some rotten pricks delivered a hell of a note,
Nefarious brains launched their robo-campaigns designed to perplex and confuse,
And keep opponents away on election day by a scurrilous, illegal ruse.

They gathered up lists of those who insisted they'd vote for the other guys,
In a robotic way on election day, they launched their attack by surprise.
They phoned up their foes and told them don't go to the poll designated before,
They used misdirection to steal the election, turning politics into a war.

The scoundrels, it seems, used Republican means of out-and-out voter suppression,
From their friends in the States, they learned how take over and rule by repression.
They studied, took notes, on how to stop votes from going to Liberals or Dips,
Without conscience or shame, ever shifting the blame, pointing fingers and flapping their lips.

Accusations were flying, democracy dying from disease more deadly than cancer,
And up in the House, a pugnacious louse refused to provide any answers.
Del Mastro the clown jumped up and sat down, sputtering words of defense,
The air he polluted with words convoluted; he just didn't make any sense.

The victims were blamed and a scapegoat was named as they tried to silence the fuss,
All by himself, a cheater in Guelph was tossed under the CPC bus.
After so many scandals, the Cons had a handle on playing blame game routine,
With great feigned conviction, they rolled out a fiction by the name of Pierre Poutine.

Poutine was the one, that son of a gun, who robocalled all on that list,
To lead them astray on election day to polls that didn't exist.
Just one guy gone bad, this fictitious lad, with opportunity, motive and means,
Though he didn't exist, he'd got voters' lists, and mounted an illegal scheme.

Though Deano kept trying, the people weren't buying his unlikely explanations,
The public's too wise for Del Mastro's lies, his deflections and obfuscation.
The truth will win out, of that we've no doubt, the guilty will not get away,
Justice won't fail, they'll be sent to jail, those villains of election day.

There are strange things done 'neath the Canadian sun
By politicians lusting for power;
The backroom boys have their techno-toys
That would make your blood go sour;
The ballot boxes have seen sly foxes,
But the slyest they ever did see
Was on election day, the second of May
When they butchered democracy.