Anything Goes (Shrub Edition)

Dubya dined with Obama and the other extant looters-in-chief… Such a farewell dinner would not be complete without some serenading:

Times have changed,
And we've often rewound the clock
Since the Puritans got a shock,
When they landed on Plymouth Rock.
When today,
Some shock the shrub fought on a whim,
'Stead of landing on Plymouth Rock,
Plymouth Rock did land on him!

(Lyrics continued below.)



Nowadays a glimpse of stocking
Is looked on as something shocking,
For sure everybody knows,
Only fundie prigs wear hose.
The Alex too who once knew better words
Will only use four-letter words
Writing prose,
Anything goes!

If parking the next bimbo you like, (Why not?)
If lines of llello you like, (I like chocolate, dude.)
If old hymns you like, (Like the shrub…)
If bare limbs you like, (Boy, do I!)
If Jim West you like, (So totally platonically!)
Or me undressed you like, (Yeah, baby, yeah!)
Why, nobody will oppose. (Oh, behave!)
When every night the set that's smart is (You talkin' about me, partner?)
Intruding in nudist parties in studios, (Come on in, y'all!)
Anything goes!

When them guys at ExxonMobil (Hank bless them)
Still can hoard enough cash for Jim to "Yes" them
Then I suppose
Anything goes!

Plus, when The Donald still can hoard enough
Money to make a chick come
And take the vows,
Anything goes!

The world has gone mad today,
And good's bad today,
And black's white today,
And day's night today,
And that gent today
You gave a cent today
Once owned half of Lehman Bros.
When folks who still can ride subway trains
Find out that Alan Greenspan's famed brains
All money blows,
Anything goes!

If Valley girls can with great conviction
Instruct us all in diction,
Then Fluffy shows,
Anything goes!

When you hear those fundie morons lonely
Believe preaching abstinence only
Flies with bros
Anything goes!

Just think of those scores you've got
And those whores you've got
And those blues you've shot
And those clues you've got
And those pains you've got
(If any brains you've got)
Playing Grand Theft till blood flows.
So Mr. W., wasting taxes,
Can broadcast from a shed in Texas
'Cause the shrub knows
Anything goes!

You want more?

Encore:

If auto execs can swoop down in private jets
And get DC looters to underwrite their bets
'Cause pensions rose
Anything goes!

Bye-bye, shrubby! Have fun at Farewell Ranch in Texas! Beware of those evil pretzels. And if you happen to meet a bottle of bourbon, remember: abstinence only!