Milo
1st May 2006, 04:08 PM
In the style of Byron's "Don Juan." Totally partisan, but fun. :roll: :razz:
Don Dubya
This is the story of a man from Texas
His family was loaded with money from oil
They could easily afford a Lexus
But did much of their money come from honest toil?
Not the plain middle class like our neighbors and us
Not men of the earth, but of that beneath soil.
Born with his mouth holding a silver spoon
What better to do, than shoot for the moon?
He was actually born, it turns out
In the American east, by the sea
But you mustn’t let this get out
It might hurt credibility
As a man of the land, strong and stout
The heartland sure likes to agree
That a fake southwest Texas drawl is sure better
Than some pansy-ass pinko-commie bed wetter
He wasn’t too smart, something of a fool
But that did not really matter
He went to a swanky Ivy League school
Based just on the wealth of his Pater
Nothing is new about cash as a tool
Keep the poor poor, as the fat cats get fatter
Money equals education
That’s the state of our great nation!
If your daddy is a big shot
It don’t matter if you have no brains
All that matters is what you got
Being dumb ain’t no pain,
Even if some of the cousins thought
That young George was the family stain.
Cause he had a bout with binge drinking
Got a DUI… what was he thinking?
Did he do crack? He sure won’t admit it
Just like Clinton didn’t inhale
And Lewinski didn’t spit it
It seems that that tactic tends to fail
If that was the bullet, he should’ve bit it
His alibi is old, youthful discretion: that’s stale
Don’t lie about your youthful ways
You can’t remember, it was a purple haze!
He always got off scott-free,
Even when he got busted
If daddy’s got money,
You won’t get arrested
The outlook sure is sunny
The cops aren’t interested
So if you want to break the law and be a wild child
It’s ok, your Daddy’s rich… just do it with some style!
The country was at war across the sea
But old George didn’t have a care
Because they wouldn’t hurt the baby
That Texan oil-empire heir
Just have him do something easy
Like flying, protecting the Texan air
And of course, who cares if he goes AWOL
It’ll all be glossed over, if Daddy makes a call.
But thank God! He found the Lord
Or at least God found him
Perhaps he merely got bored
With his beer, whisky and gin
The religious right, that day scored
No long would their savior be living in sin
Clean up, said his parents, or we’ll kick your ass
Such good paternal guidance, what refinement, what class
Such a promising career, an oil oligarchy
To bad he drove them all into the ground
I’m sad to say, all his drilling came up empty
There simply was no oil to be found
Every last one of his wells seemed to be dry
It seems there just was no oil around.
It seems that the desert threw him out on his keister
Even with his religion, no oil, just Easter.
No luck in business? Hell, that doesn’t matter
Why not buy a sports team instead?
I’ll trade you a pitcher… I need a good batter
Do you think that desert heat had gone to his head?
His team wasn’t so hot, no world records to shatter
But it was better than drilling. At least that’s what they said.
Somehow I don’t think that that kid in the manger
Had much to do with the George Texas Walker Rangers
So if you can’t do business
And sports just won’t cut it
You better not settle for less
And waste your daddy’s budget
Even though you made a mess
We think that you can make it yet
You’d better get in line, make your life something
Your Daddy didn’t buy your education for nothing
Politics, that’s an old boy’s game!
They’ll set you up quite nicely
You’ve got the dough, you’ve got the name
And to put it quite concisely
Just get that religious right inflamed
And you’ll have what you wanted precisely
A seat in the governor’s mansion
A perfect spot for expansion.
Being in charge of a state isn’t bad
It’s nice; it pays well and is fun.
But you know, there is much more to be had
You could be el numero one.
Just follow the example set by your dad
You know what they say, like father, like son.
You’d best make up for the time that you idled
Besides, as you see it, you know you’re entitled.
Things went pretty well during W’s tenure
As governor of the Lone Star
But all his backers were pretty sure
That if George the First set the bar
Then Junior could go further
With all that money, it wouldn’t be hard
Just make some wild promises, to cut taxes and such
Crack down on the liberals, gays: fairy and butch
George Bush as the president
We’d seen that before
Not such a great precedent
Unless you’re a fan of war.
After election all that he said
Went sailing out the door
This time would be round two
Let’s see what Junior can do!
A dirty, dirty primary, we just can’t play nice
John McCain having a love child?
No, that just won’t suffice.
A bastard kid these days is mild
Something to get him properly iced,
A black girl! Hey, that’s pretty wild!
There’s no way in heaven that deep-right republicans
Would choose a philandering, race-crossing man.
It was fortuitous luck that had George backed by cash
If he wasn’t, he might have had problems
Without it they’d have settled his hash
But with all that money, he could condemn
Al Gore’s “fuzzy math”, being bold, being brash
And from this calculation quandary his victory did stem
With some damned fuzzy numbers and a hanging chad story
Bush and his gang, in Florida, achieved victory.
Finally in office, George Bush the Second
We could all breathe a sigh of relief
But what we were in for, nobody reckoned
Nobody guessed the plans of our chief
For the oil in Iraq, it called him, it beckoned
Hey Ho! Off to War! Oh my, good grief.
It was money from oil that made him shine
And got him elected; now it’s payback time.
George Bush sure remembers
What got him his place:
Rich family members
Helped him win the race
In two different Novembers
When the democrats gave chase
He knows it’s important for his lasting success
To help those who have money live in excess
Money got him where he is
It wasn’t the proletariat
But his backers in big biz
So we can tip our hat
To the magic rich man’s wiz
That brings to our doormat
Awful leaders, more foolish than me or you
They have fancy diplomas, but they do not have a clue
I don’t want to seem partisan
Although that may be to late
It’s not just those republicans
All politicians aggravate
This problem if they can
They think the system’s great.
Born into wealth, bought into office
I could go on about it, but I’m hurting my wrist.
Don Dubya
This is the story of a man from Texas
His family was loaded with money from oil
They could easily afford a Lexus
But did much of their money come from honest toil?
Not the plain middle class like our neighbors and us
Not men of the earth, but of that beneath soil.
Born with his mouth holding a silver spoon
What better to do, than shoot for the moon?
He was actually born, it turns out
In the American east, by the sea
But you mustn’t let this get out
It might hurt credibility
As a man of the land, strong and stout
The heartland sure likes to agree
That a fake southwest Texas drawl is sure better
Than some pansy-ass pinko-commie bed wetter
He wasn’t too smart, something of a fool
But that did not really matter
He went to a swanky Ivy League school
Based just on the wealth of his Pater
Nothing is new about cash as a tool
Keep the poor poor, as the fat cats get fatter
Money equals education
That’s the state of our great nation!
If your daddy is a big shot
It don’t matter if you have no brains
All that matters is what you got
Being dumb ain’t no pain,
Even if some of the cousins thought
That young George was the family stain.
Cause he had a bout with binge drinking
Got a DUI… what was he thinking?
Did he do crack? He sure won’t admit it
Just like Clinton didn’t inhale
And Lewinski didn’t spit it
It seems that that tactic tends to fail
If that was the bullet, he should’ve bit it
His alibi is old, youthful discretion: that’s stale
Don’t lie about your youthful ways
You can’t remember, it was a purple haze!
He always got off scott-free,
Even when he got busted
If daddy’s got money,
You won’t get arrested
The outlook sure is sunny
The cops aren’t interested
So if you want to break the law and be a wild child
It’s ok, your Daddy’s rich… just do it with some style!
The country was at war across the sea
But old George didn’t have a care
Because they wouldn’t hurt the baby
That Texan oil-empire heir
Just have him do something easy
Like flying, protecting the Texan air
And of course, who cares if he goes AWOL
It’ll all be glossed over, if Daddy makes a call.
But thank God! He found the Lord
Or at least God found him
Perhaps he merely got bored
With his beer, whisky and gin
The religious right, that day scored
No long would their savior be living in sin
Clean up, said his parents, or we’ll kick your ass
Such good paternal guidance, what refinement, what class
Such a promising career, an oil oligarchy
To bad he drove them all into the ground
I’m sad to say, all his drilling came up empty
There simply was no oil to be found
Every last one of his wells seemed to be dry
It seems there just was no oil around.
It seems that the desert threw him out on his keister
Even with his religion, no oil, just Easter.
No luck in business? Hell, that doesn’t matter
Why not buy a sports team instead?
I’ll trade you a pitcher… I need a good batter
Do you think that desert heat had gone to his head?
His team wasn’t so hot, no world records to shatter
But it was better than drilling. At least that’s what they said.
Somehow I don’t think that that kid in the manger
Had much to do with the George Texas Walker Rangers
So if you can’t do business
And sports just won’t cut it
You better not settle for less
And waste your daddy’s budget
Even though you made a mess
We think that you can make it yet
You’d better get in line, make your life something
Your Daddy didn’t buy your education for nothing
Politics, that’s an old boy’s game!
They’ll set you up quite nicely
You’ve got the dough, you’ve got the name
And to put it quite concisely
Just get that religious right inflamed
And you’ll have what you wanted precisely
A seat in the governor’s mansion
A perfect spot for expansion.
Being in charge of a state isn’t bad
It’s nice; it pays well and is fun.
But you know, there is much more to be had
You could be el numero one.
Just follow the example set by your dad
You know what they say, like father, like son.
You’d best make up for the time that you idled
Besides, as you see it, you know you’re entitled.
Things went pretty well during W’s tenure
As governor of the Lone Star
But all his backers were pretty sure
That if George the First set the bar
Then Junior could go further
With all that money, it wouldn’t be hard
Just make some wild promises, to cut taxes and such
Crack down on the liberals, gays: fairy and butch
George Bush as the president
We’d seen that before
Not such a great precedent
Unless you’re a fan of war.
After election all that he said
Went sailing out the door
This time would be round two
Let’s see what Junior can do!
A dirty, dirty primary, we just can’t play nice
John McCain having a love child?
No, that just won’t suffice.
A bastard kid these days is mild
Something to get him properly iced,
A black girl! Hey, that’s pretty wild!
There’s no way in heaven that deep-right republicans
Would choose a philandering, race-crossing man.
It was fortuitous luck that had George backed by cash
If he wasn’t, he might have had problems
Without it they’d have settled his hash
But with all that money, he could condemn
Al Gore’s “fuzzy math”, being bold, being brash
And from this calculation quandary his victory did stem
With some damned fuzzy numbers and a hanging chad story
Bush and his gang, in Florida, achieved victory.
Finally in office, George Bush the Second
We could all breathe a sigh of relief
But what we were in for, nobody reckoned
Nobody guessed the plans of our chief
For the oil in Iraq, it called him, it beckoned
Hey Ho! Off to War! Oh my, good grief.
It was money from oil that made him shine
And got him elected; now it’s payback time.
George Bush sure remembers
What got him his place:
Rich family members
Helped him win the race
In two different Novembers
When the democrats gave chase
He knows it’s important for his lasting success
To help those who have money live in excess
Money got him where he is
It wasn’t the proletariat
But his backers in big biz
So we can tip our hat
To the magic rich man’s wiz
That brings to our doormat
Awful leaders, more foolish than me or you
They have fancy diplomas, but they do not have a clue
I don’t want to seem partisan
Although that may be to late
It’s not just those republicans
All politicians aggravate
This problem if they can
They think the system’s great.
Born into wealth, bought into office
I could go on about it, but I’m hurting my wrist.