The term is up, the time is near
To bring the bacon home, my dear.
So just sit back and have a beer
And marvel at the time of year
You'll have yer bacon yet, my dear.
Oh, quit yer fussin' 'bout yer pay,
Things don't get done no other way.
There's roads and bridges to be had
And bailouts, handouts too, my lad,
A housing project here and there
To save the po' boy from despair,
And reams of paper, wells of ink,
Enough to make a tanker sink
(And eco-bunnies' ears turn pink)
To log our legislative will,
Another rider-ridden bill
(A present for kind Uncle Bill).
So cut yer sassin'; don't be cross.
Just leave the drivin' up to us.
To serve you in much better ways,
We'll vote ourselves another raise,
And stock the House with waterbeds
A comfort for hard-working heads,
A big-screen TV on the floor;
'Cause speeches sure can be a bore!
The sow is fat with juicy meat
Enough for every Joe to eat,
So come and get it; vittle's on,
A ham for every Jane and John.
Less tax, more service, like I said;
So just sit tight, you'll all get fed.
Come have yer cake and eat it too.
I swear, "Scout's honor", I'll be true;
Would I ever lie to you?
Two years ain't diddly-squat, my son;
A House-boy's work is never done.
So cast yer ballot right and true;
I'll bring the bacon home to you.
To get yer kicks and get yer fix,
Just vote "Fast Jim" in '96.
George Chadderdon © 1994