Lazy, half-assed James Buchanan
Has a pocket constitution to which he sometimes refers
To tell him what is wrong and right.
With great patience, sitting on his hands
In the White House he waits and waits, then waits again,
Hoping for a peaceful end to secession.

But no one told him about secession.
No one ever told ol’ doughface Buchanan.
When it happens in one state, it will happen again.
The Supreme Court, to which he also refers,
Takes Dred Scott and slavery out of his hands
Because someone—not him—needs to say what’s right.

And sometimes, to make sure he’s on the path a-right,
While Kansas bleeds and the South commences secession,
James takes a Magic Eight ball in his hands,
Shakes with fervor and then cries out “Tell Papa Buchanan—
Am I doing well?” And the Eight Ball, to which he refers,
In its infinite wisdom, says “reply hazy, try again.”