A song parody, apologies to Jim Croce
Capitol's got its hustlers
The Senate's got its bums
Pennsylvania Ave's got Barack Obama
He's a smooth talking son of a gun
Yeah he's big and smart as a man can come
He's better than a Clinton, hoss
And when the Democrats all get together at night
You know they all call Barack boss
And they say
You don't tug on Superman's cape
You don't spit into the wind
You don't pull the mask of the ol' Lone Ranger
And you don't mess around with Barack
Well outta south Florida come a talking man
He said I'm looking for a man named Barack
I am a radio talker man
Name is Rush Limbaugh
And no liberal calls me slim
Yeah I'm lookin for the king of the Democrats
He talkin about more spending, Jack
Now we wants to take all our money
And it may sound funny
But I come to get our money back
And everybody say Jack, don't you know
You don't tug on Superman's cape
You don't spit into the wind
You don't pull the mask of the ol' Lone Ranger
And you don't mess around with Barack
Well a hush fell over the press room
When Barack come boppin' in off the street
And when the shouting was done
The only plan left on the table
was where to go to eat
Yeah taxes cut in bout a hundred places
And going end a couple more
And you better believe
They sung a diffrent kinda story
When Barack hit the floor, uh huh
Now they say
You don't tug on Superman's cape
You don't spit into the wind
You don't pull the mask of the ol' Lone Ranger
And you don't mess around with Rush
No comments:
Post a Comment