i had a reason to wake up on sunday
despite neuronal vodka tensions
just for the chance to see tim russert
search for the truth with hard-earned questions

with natural ease, he'd trap great minds
in boxes that we hope they'd fill
and then he'd let them speak beyond their limit
while looking on with a boyish thrill

he's dead now, taking with him a generation
that patiently fought the the permanent campaign
and in so doing, spread love of country
through skeptical dissection of its day-to-day