A Political Thriller

Patrick McCorkle
2 min readOct 31, 2022

It’s close to election night and something political is lurkin’ in the dark

Under a device’s light you see ads that almost stops your heart

You want to scream, but fatalism takes the sound before you make it

You start to freeze as a politico looks you right between the eyes…

You’re resigned

’Cause November 8th is election, election night

And no one’s gonna save you from the lies about to strike

You know it will be election, election night

You’re fighting for your wits inside a killer, thriller

Election in seven nights

We’re gonna elect in seven nights!

You hear the knock on the door and realize there’s nowhere left to run

You shake the cold hand and wonder if they’ve always the truth spun

You close your eyes and ears and hope it’s just imagination

But all the while you hear a lawmaker creeping up from behind

Voter, you’re outta time!

’Cause it’s election, election night

There ain’t no second chance

Against the thing with 40 PACs

Election, election night

Voter, you’re fighting for your wits

Inside a killer election tonight.

Activist creatures call

And the hacks walk in their masquerade

There’s no escaping the jaws of the politico this time

They’re open wide

This is the end of your wits, oh!

They’re out to get you

There’s ‘statesmen’ closing in on every side

They will possess you

Unless you change that choice on your ballot!

Now is the time

For you and I to huddle close together, yeah.

All throughout these nights

I’ll save you from the nonsense on the screens

I’ll make you see

Up until the election night

I can educate you more

Than any candidate would dare try.

Election, ooh, election night

So let me console you tight

And share a killer, chiller election in seven nights-

I will educate you tonight!

Campaigns fall across the land

The election hour is close at hand.

Candidates crawl in search of support

Terrorizing y’all’s home court.

And whosoever shall be found

Without the sanity for getting down

Must face the partisans of hell

And rot inside a citizen’s shell.

The foulest talking points are in the air

The funk of two hundred forty six years

Devilish deceits from every tomb

Are closing in to seal logic’s doom.

Though you fight to stay sane

Your body and mind shiver

For no mere American can resist

The evil of the 8th of November.



Patrick McCorkle

I am a young professional with keen interests in politics, history, foreign languages and the arts.