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(with apologies to Ian Tyson)
THE LOWEST DEBITS (April 30) —
Four more years, holy moley,
a reprise and more lies
be-cuz the hoi polloi love what’s-iz-hair
The country is now gone,
a conclusion (“SAD”) foregone
THEY got preachers, we ain't got a prayer
When by Fortune we’re des-erted,
when he wins in the fall . . .
Can-a-da? I s'pose we could go there
Eh? We’d have to learn 'boot curling —
that could prove a chore
Would we like superior health care?
Four more years, holy moley,
a reprise and more lies
be-cuz the hoi polloi love what’s-iz-hair
The country is now gone,
a conclusion (“SAD”) foregone
THEY got preachers, we ain't got a prayer
GOP wins House and Senate
They already have the Courts
There’s no one, anywhere, to stay his hand
It’ll truly be game over,
be nothing we can do,
as this pestilence lays waste the land
Four more years, holy moley,
a reprise and more lies
be-cuz the hoi polloi love what’s-iz-hair
The country is now gone,
a conclusion (“SAD”) foregone
THEY got preachers, we ain't got a prayer