You'll be Roved, Just like John McCain was. You'll be Roved Like Ms. Valerie Plame was. He will hose anyone he knows will disagree. He's the Bush 'Turd Blossom', He's a double-cross 'em Chef Boy Ar Dee. When you're Roved, There's no three-mile limit. When you're Roved, You're sunk if you can't swim it. You're a drowning man where no one can see the shark, A transvestite Noah With a horny boa And a leaky ark. You've been tricked? Bush has sicked Rove on you? Mentioned chad? Then they'll Pentagon you. But Turd Blossoms, when you cross 'em, tend to leak Depends on who's the turd and who's the blossom On a given week.
Music & Original Lyric by Cole Porter |