No Candy for You

So Crowley’s being told to settle down.
A pity that the moderator might
Be given an instruction for a fight
To settle an infraction that’d drown
In all the many bigger ones the men
Debating one another toss about.
We fear releasing here the bias out
That’s present here in Candy, while, again,
The president, and Mitt, and all the rest
Advising them are getting up to speed
With misinterpretations that are needed
For to grow a base that’s very best
For winning an election in a land
Where bias is our greatest reprimand
For making an opponent fold his hand.