Go vote! and get thee to the polling place
Where reigns of wrath and mirth are grave'd in time;
Turn out thy King, and set upon his throne
Another's countenance to rule instead!

Your vote! your voice! your heartrent bawl now writ
Upon thine ballot cast with quill, not plough;
For while ye toil 'neath yoke and burdened brow
Thy lord wrecks merry hell o'er distant land.

So vote! you mean and ruddy lot of men!
Haste to the poll and there empow'red be;
Cast in your chit, that in the cast ye might
Esteem thyself the more the Prince; for else
The King avails himself again his throne
And little's changed when all is said and done.

The Bard, on Election 2006
(as interpreted by grimm)