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A walking slab of brain damage beneath a bad toupee
And a soul of orange, oozing pus is hereby on this day
Inflicted and installed as our alleged president
And I guess it makes sense if you're a lobotomy patient
Nothing rhymes with orange, and I never should have had to write this song
Ain't enough pages and piano keys to play the ways it's wrong
He might be some people's president, but to most of us he's not
In any office he's still just an orange tweeting twat
He got grown-ass men in white cone hats and hoods made out of sheets
He's gonna make 'em great again sometime between those tweets
We know he likes the Russians, least he hopes they will not snitch
Likes his showers gold, that's why he's Putin's little bitch
You will not hear me sing his name, let's just say it rhymes with 'dump.'
And stump and chump and bump and lump and hump and slump and rump.
He's gonna do some damage, it's gonna be a drag
He cannot grab my snatch but he can bite my bloody rag
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2. |
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One plus one is two, you'd think on that we could agree
And that the sky is blue, and it wouldn't start world war three
That the findings of a study, double-blind and peer-reviewed
Would combine disparate perspectives and not be misconstrued
Information is your friend, facts are not your enemy
Someone smart said a long time ago, the truth will set you free
And it sucks I even have to say it, that I have to sing and play it
We all enjoy results of scientific inquiry
There's information all around us, it helps us cooperate
From a street sign to a line of code, helps us coordinate
Facts can be observable and so can some events
Misinformation often leads to harmful incidents
Objective truth is a thing
Good journalism helps to make us aware
Regardless of what we want to see there
It doesn't care about our paradigm or concept of what's balanced and fair
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3. |
I'd Love to be Wrong
03:38
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I can see the sunset burning at the end of the world, from the end of the continent
The final frame of this ill-fated experiment
I can hear the future screaming from a five-alarm fire
An operatic death of dreaming from a new nightmare choir
I'd love to be wrong, for future studies to show
I'd just been crazy and no harm had been done
But it's already here, and we already know
Were it a cruel hoax or just a bad dream
We could laugh or wake up or move on
You could ridicule me in song
And I'd laugh right along
That's how much I'd love to be wrong
I see four guys on horses, the sky growing dark, I can hear the rattle of chains
They ain't coming to help us, their hostages already slain
The impending betrayal will come as no surprise
We've already seen casualties from false lullabies
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Dawn Oberg San Francisco, California
Dawn Oberg is a San Francisco-based songwriter and recording artist.
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