Where Can All the Moderates Be?

Written with some inspiration from the song "Last Kiss" by J. Frank Wilson and the Cavaliers.

Oh where oh where can all the moderates be?
I'm searching all over and them I don't see.

They've all gone to the gallows so I've got to be brave,
Because I'll soon be joining them in the grave.

They laid a reasonable foundation that can be built upon,
But to be moderate these days is to be a con.

They worked so great together to get things done,
Their results were as sweet as hon' (ey).

Now instead of winning through thoughtful discussion,
The "in" thing these days is to give 'em a concussion.

I'm desperately searching for these calm old-school leaders,
But all I see around me are hot-headed bottom feeders.

Instead of negotiating over a scotch in a smoke-filled back room,
Issues are now settled with horrendous doom.

We moderates are a no-longer welcomed breed,
To the worms in the ground we're providing tasty feed.

Oh where oh where can all the moderates be?
I'm searching all over and them I don't see.

They've all gone to the gallows so I've got to be brave,
Because I'll soon be joining them in the grave.