Everyday in the morning on his way to the office
You can see from his face, rushing blood drain.
Just another frenzied media onslaught;
Another story to destroy his name.
But the truth of the matter is that fucking a young intern
Cannot mask your age, like highlighted gray;
And the silence as the story's unfolding
Make the rumors simply vanish away.
Now that Monica and OJ and exploited little JonBenet
Cannot carry every hour of the day.
The return of twenty-four seven coverage
Will capture every minute ghastly display.
So while CNN is perching and The New York Post is lurking
With MSNBC and Fox on attack
The search is focused, now, in all the wrong places;
And not ones that will bring Chandra back.