[The the tune of “Penny Lane” by the Beatles]

♩♪

It’s Pretty Lame
There is a pauper in a photograph
With a crust of bread that’s all the bread she’ll ever know
In every place where socialism grows
People say “Hell, no.”

But in this country there are gangsters wearing mortarboards
And liberal children laugh at us behind our backs
As they plan on raising everybody’s tax —
But not all the same —
Very strange.

Pretty Lame
Is all you hear, and it’s all lies
There, where they all meet, to socialize —
Meanwhile, tax.

Pantry raids are just about the speed of Democrats
And in their pocket is the media we’ve seen;
They like to keep class envy green
It’s a Green machine.

♩♪ (Ah……, Ah…… ) ♩♪

Pretty Lame
States in arrears
And in disgrace
Full of focusing on race
And so on.
Meanwhile
There:

Behind Michelle and in the middle-of-the-road-killective
I’m pretty sure that Hillary sips chardonnay
And never feels as if she’s in the way —
She is anyway

Pretty Lame canards enslave another trusting youth
We see fake news has suddenly become a trend
And then a newsman rushes in
To deplore the same:
Very strange.

Pretty Lame
For all these years was in disguise
Weird, ’cause they all drive Suburbans, guys,
You don’t —
And meanwhile, pack

Pretty Lame for many years was in your face,
Their beneath-contempt suburbs and states . . . ♩♪ ♩♪ . . .

Pretty Lame!

♩♪