[High Praise! to Oppo]
Strzok and Page (to the tune of “Turn the Page” by Bob Seger)
On a long, loathsome slope
East and West Coast lies
You can listen to Deplorables
And text out one long sigh
Because you don’t care for their money
Just for things that it can buy
But your thoughts will soon be wandering
The way they always do
When you proxy-serve 1600
Pennsylvania Avenue
Massaging the elections
Though you wish that they were through
Here’s I.M.’s
On the phone again
Here we go
Texting rage
Here we go
Revealing our true intent
No one knows
Strzok and Page
When you walk into a hornet’s nest
Strung up by your bros
And you feel the eyes upon you
As you’re sucking up to foes
You pretend it doesn’t bother you
But you just want to expose . . .
Sometimes you can’t sway the rubes
Other times you can
With those same old cliches,
“Is he a Russian or the Klan?”
And you’ve always seen Obama
As the ideal Manchurian
Hear I.M.’s
On the phone again
Here we go
Opening the cage
Here we go
Revealing true intent
Here we go
Strzok and Page
Up there in the spotlight
You’re a million miles away
Every hint of NSA
You try to squirrel away
As the stuff pours out your body
Like The New York Times today
Later on that evening
As you lie to talking heads
With the echoes of the media
— Because it bled, it led
And you stoke the day’s last Reichstag
Remembering what she said:
Hear I.M.’s
On the phone again
Here we go
Texting rage
Here we go
Seal our records, now
Here we go
Strzok and Page
She stood there bright as a dachshund on that California coast
He was a big Weinstein exec on his own
She looked at him with those soft eyes, so innocent and blue
He knew right then she was too far from home
She was too far from home
He took her hand and he led him along that golden beach
They watched the waves tumble over the sand
They drove for miles and miles up those twisting turning roads
Higher and higher and higher they climbed
And those Hollywood Knights
In those Hollywood Hills
Blame it all on the Right!
Made demands for more bills.
All those pig-city nights
In those high-roller hills
Above all, the Right’s
Blamed by all of our shills
He hated the West ’cause he felt that stance would do him good
Feel some offence, good for career;
She had been born with a race that would let her get her way
He saw only race and he lost all control
He had lost all control
“Right” after “right,” like married gays, it went on and on
Then came that moment he’s “woke” but alone
He spent a night staring down the barrels of #MeToo
Wondering if he’d hear “Ecce Homo.”
Ah, those Hollywood Knights
In those Hollywood Hills
Blamed it all on the Right
Made demands for more bills.
All those Big City nights
In those high-roller hills
Above all, blame whites
Be like Eddie Haskills . . .
She stood there bright as a dachshund on that California coast
She was a s bright as a dachshund?
Maybe not even that bright.
may be
Why did you choose Dachshund?
Alliteration.. The line was “She stood there bright as the sun . . ”
I thought of saying “.. bright as DeShawn,” but you know. .. I’m nothing if not culturally Sensodyne.
Revised version:
She stood there bright as a lib on that California coast
He was a Weinstein exec on his own
She looked at him with those soft eyes, so innocent and blue
He knew right then she was too far from home
She was too far from home
He took her hand, and said “I’m with the Golden Beyotch”
They heard the airwaves mumble over her scandals
They dove for miles and miles into twisting turning codes
But got higher and higher and higher all the time.
And those Wholly White Knights
In the Holier-Than-Thou hills
Blame it all on the Right;
Make demands for more bills.
All those pig-city nights
High-rollers of Hill’s
Above all, the Right-
Vast Conspiracy shills
He hated the West ’cause he felt that stance would do him good
Feel some offense, food for a troll;
She had been born with a race that would let her get away,
He saw only race and he lost all control.
He lost all Cointreau . . .
“Right” after “right,” married gays, it went on and on
Then came that moment he’s “woke” but alone
He spent a night staring down the double barrels of #MeToo
Wondering if he’d hear “Ecce Homo.”
All those Hollywood nuts
All those Hollywood shills
Blame it all on the rut
Made demands for more bills.
Sects-In-The-City nights
Holier-Than-Thou hiils
Above all, blame whites
Be like Eddie Haskills . . .