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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 |