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More seasoned greetings: It's another ho-ho-Horowitz Christmas

Tough times? Try tunes!

We've got political carols! Financial carols! Scandal carols! Carols from the world of sports!

Yes indeedy, friends—it's a holiday miracle! It's..."Another Ho-Ho-Horowitz Christmas!"

And a-one, and a-two, and...

Barackin' around the Christmas tree

On your worthless real estate,

Try to forget the misery

And the unemployment rate,

Barackin' along the campaign trail

With elections on the way,

Ev'ryone treads so carefully

Till Inauguration Day.

Ozone's not a problem,

Put the ki-bosh on Plan B,

Don't give in to labor's hype line,

Let's delay that Keystone Pi-i-peline...

* * *

We've got Bachmann, we've got Huntsman,

There's Santorum and Paul,

Just a few of the endless contenders...

Polls are climbing, polls are dropping,

Watch 'em rise, watch 'em fall,

But from ev'ry TV set you hear:

"On the third day of Christmas,

Rick Perry gave to me....."

* * *

Dashing to and fro,

With a tax plan and a smile,

Always on the go,

Always tops in style,

Burst into the lead,

With the pundits saying "Nope"—

Was the nation quite prepared

For another Man from Grope?

Herman Cain, Herman Cain,

Gave it quite a run,

Sounded fine with his "9-9-9"

But he quickly came undone.

Herman Cain, Herman Cain,

Loved his cool chapeau,

Set new trends with his lady "friends"—

But the missus didn't know!

* * *

Well, it's Twenty-twelve Anno Domini,

And they're dumping Willard Romney,

While conservatives start to crow:

"We said no! We said no! We said no!"

His positions are truly vexing,

And he's really good at flexing,

He's electable—they're, like, "So?"

They say no! They say no! They say no!!!

* * *

Silent Newt,

Holy Newt,

Bites his tongue,

Busts his suit.

Cuddly grandpa as sweet as can be,

Family values with Wife Number Three,

Creeps back into the ra-ace—

Can't wipe that smirk off his face.

* * *

* O Euro debt, O Euro debt,

You still can't find the bottom,

You wanted just one currency,

You wanted friends, you got 'em!

You took a stand, the world could see,

As Merkel teamed with Sarkozy,

O Euro debt, vast Euro debt,

As big as hippopotam—

* * *

These three things

Rick Perry would close:

"This, and that, and...one more like those..."

* * *

Deck the halls with corporate riches,

Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la,

Watch as Wall Street moans and bitches,

Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la,

Straining hard to duck the onus,

Fa-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la,

Waiting for their latest bonus,

Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la!

Check the halls of Congress often,

Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la,

Watch those regulations soften,

Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la,

Toss aside your déclassé seat,

Fa-la-la, la-la-la, la-la-la,

Cash your chips and move to K Street,

Fa-la-la-la-la, la-la-la-la!

* * *

O Little Town of Occupy...

(O, LITTLE TOWN OF OCCUPY!!!)

With flutes, guitars and tents,

(WITH FLUTES, GUITARS AND TENTS!!!)

You stand your ground, your trumpets sound,

(YOU STAND YOUR GROUND, YOUR TRUMPETS SOUND!!!)

You make all kinds of sense.

(YOU MAKE ALL KINDS OF SENSE!!!)

The bankers and the brokers,

(THE BANKERS AND THE BROKERS!!!)

Are open in their wrath,

(ARE OPEN IN THEIR WRATH!!!)

They offer you a different plan:

(THEY OFFER YOU A DIFFERENT PLAN!!!)

"Go home and take a bath!"

("GO HOME AND TAKE A..."HEY!!!)

* * *

Hark, the herald angels sing,

"What became of Arab Spring?"

Hosni out, Qaddafi dead,

People Power starts to spread.

Tyrants face their final hour,

Holding tightly to their power,

Bullets fly and tear gas rains:

Middle Eastern growing pains,

Tear gas rains and bullets fly—

They'll have their freedom by and by.

* * *

O here comes Rod Blagojevich,

He's gonna do some time,

Pretending he was Elvis

Was not his biggest crime,

He was scum,

He was vile,

So he's gonna spend a while

In a taxpayer's paradise without his fancy cars,

He can sing "Don't Be Cruel" behind the bars.

* * *

People watch, don't be bitter,

Send your crotch...straight to Twitter,

You played us for fools,

You broke all the rules,

Walkin' in a Weiner Wonderland.

* * *

i...Pad will mean a bright Christmas,

And don't forget the iPhone 4,

You'll grow warm and teary,

When you hear Siri,

But soon, you'll be hot for more...

("I want, I want, I want it...!)

* * *

Angels send the bidding high,

Albert Pujols chose to fly,

All at once that Gateway Arch

Seems to lack its normal starch.

Free A-A-A-A-A-A,

A-A-A-A-A,

A-A-A Free Agency,

Albert likes his pay-ay-oh!

Rick Horowitz is a syndicated columnist. You can sing to him at rickhoro@execpc.com.

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