HEY YOU KIDS, GET THAT DIRTY BOMB OFF MY LAWN!
So what if
Come November ‘04
We just skip that whole Rent-A-King process,
Can the collective coin toss,
And just find somebody’s mom to be President
Preferably a lady with big hair named Phyllis
In little stretchy pants and moccasins
Who would speak softly sometimes
But carry a wooden spoon.
And she’d only let the winner of Friday Night
Congressional Bingo have his pork bill passed
(But only if it wasn’t something really stupid
Like studying owl vomit or fighting "Goth culture")
And if international bad boys gave us any trouble
She’d just call up their mothers and that’d be that.
She’d give Congress a small allowance
To cover essentials like domestic programs
And when they came to her and said
"But every other country has a bazillion dollar defense system."
She’d say, "Well, if every other country
Jumped out the window would you do it too?"
And when they whined
"But I really really neeeeeeeeeed an S&L bailout,"
She’d put her hands on her hips, sigh, and say,
"Well then you’d better start mowing some lawns mister"
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