The Senator said to the Statesman, "You elegant fellow,
How charmingly sweet the lies you sing!
Oh! let us with the media parry;
too long we have tarried:
But for which Anchorman shall we sing?"
They sailed away, for a week and a day,
To the land where the news cycle grows;
And there in a wood an Anchorman held sway,
With Ted's ring at the end of his nose,
His nose,
His nose,
With Ted's ring at the end of his nose.

"Dear Anchorman, are you willing to sell for one penny
Your soul?" Said the Anchorman, "I will."
So they interviewed away, in the last cycle of the day
By Aaron who lives off the fools on the hill.
They wheedled and whined, client lists declined,
Apologies were offered with a wink and a nod;
Skipping a light fandango across the room,
They danced away by the light of the moon,
The moon,
The moon,
They danced away by the light of the moon.