Letras
There's an ugly little wasel 'bout three-foot nine
Face puffed up from cryin' 'n lyin'
'Cause her sweet little hubby's
Suckin' prong part time
(In the name of The Lord)
Get a clue, little shrew
Oh yeah, oh yeah
Jesus thinks you're a jerk
Did he really choose Tammy to do His Work?
Robertson says that he's The One
Oh sure he is,
If Armageddon
Is your idea of family fun,
An' he's got some planned for you!
(Now, tell me that ain't true)
Now, what if Jimbo's slightly gay,
Will Pat let Jimbo get away?
Everything we've heard him say
Indicated that Jim must pay,
(And it just might hurt a bit)
But keep that money rollin' in,
'Cause Pat and naughty Jimbo
Can't get enough of it
Perhaps it's their idea
Of an Affirmative Action Plan
To give White Trash a 'special break',
Well, they took those Jeezo-bucks and ran
To the bank! To the bank! To the bank! To the bank!
And every night we can hear them thank
Their Buddy, up above
For sending down his love
(While you all smell the glove)
Jim and Pat should take a pole
(Right up each saintly glory-hole),
With tar and feathers too
Just like they'd love to do to you
('Cause they think you are bad
And they are very mad)
'Cause some folks don't want prayer in school!
(We'd need an ark to survive the drool
Of Micro-publicans, raised on hate,
And 'Jimbo-Jimbo' when they graduate)
Conviced they are 'The Chosen Ones'
And all their parents carry guns,
And hold them cards in the N.R.A.
(With their fingers on the triggers
When they kneel and pray)
With a Ku-Klux muu-muu
In the back of the truck,
If you ain't Born Again,
They wanna mess you up, screamin',