The Ghost of Joe McCarthy – Jim Silvers – writer

They called the man a hero, for years he played the part
We knew he had the guts and will, we thought he had the heart
But somewhere in that prison, they sowed an awful seed
That made him think he was absolved from any future deed

When he made it to the Senate, his honor was intact
And when he made a few wrong moves, he somehow pulled it back
But the seed that they’d implanted, took root within his soul
As ambition grew unfettered, the hero lost his hold

And the ghost of Joe McCarthy is howling from the grave
As Palin and her running mate resurrect the shame
They’ve conjured up a blacklist, are we that naïve and lame
To let the ghost of Joe McCarthy speak through John McCain

Now his fall from grace is written, in his eyes, across his face
While he’s tried to hide behind the skirts, of a creature filled with hate
Let the witches stir the cauldron, there’ll be blood on all our hands
If we give in to the fear they’ve strewn, across our fabled land

Copyright 2008