If, my dear, you seek to slumber; Count of stars an endless number; If you will continue wakeful; Count the drops that make a lakeful; Then if vigilance yet above you Hover, Count the times I love you; And if slumber sill repel you Count the times I do not tell you.
Everyone knows the presidential candidates and has an opinion about them. But as you get to smaller races, that evaporates and you can win through sheer elbow grease.