Revisions

Warren's Honeymoon Hotel

Now that we've destroyed Iraq completely—

Blown its infrastructure all to hell—

We'll re-arm a few of 'em (discreetly)

Through the Honeywell Cartel.

First, we bomb 'em back into the Stone Age,

Then we form an Arab Baby Bell.

Pretty soon, they'll join the Mobile Phone Age

Through the Honeywell Cartel.

So what, if it breaches

Every rule in Hoyle?

Spare us all your speeches;

The fact is, oil is oil.

So everybody's gonna make a profit

(Cheney's done particularly well).

If you've got a hat, you'd better doff it

To the Honeywell Cartel.

Coca-Cola,

Motorola,

And especially Chevron and Shell,

In the Honeywell Cartel.

Bart's Who Will Buy?

Who must file? It isn't Bugs Bunny,

Gomer Pyle, or Mr. Magoo.

Shout "Siegheil!" and cough up the money,

So Uncle Sam can spy on you.

That's how we wage the War on Terror,

And that's how we will win—

So make it payable to "bearer"

And mail that paycheck in!

Up the Nile and down the Euphrates,

Muslim guile is cramping our style.

Let's revile the 1780's!

The Constitution's through—it simply wouldn't do.

The only law is—who must file?

Who must file? It isn't Bugs Bunny,

Gomer Pyle, or Mr. Magoo.

Shout "Siegheil!" and cough up the money,

So Uncle Sam can spy on you.

We've got to break that Evil Axis

By planting bugs at home!

So blame Verizon for your taxes

(They soak us, when we roam).

[Alternate lyric for preceding:]

So let us cheer for Don't Tell Mama,

Where Truth's alive and well!

And let us back Barack Obama—

He'll give Big Brother hell!

Don't it rile—the snooping and prying?

Try to smile—you'll miss by a mile.

All the while, your freedom is dying.

It's tragic, but it's true: the Feds are out to screw

The poor schlimazels who must file.

Porter's I Get a Kick Out of You

In Business, there's one unvarying thread:

For practic'ly ev'ryone, it's a battle for bread.

Now, no one does anything simply for free;

If you ask me to help you, bro,

With a deal that'll make you dough,

Here's the one thing I need to know—

What's in it for me?

Maybe I ought to explain:

Greasing the wheel—that's "The Art of the Deal";

And, trust me, this deal will go through,

If I get a kickback from you.

Maybe you thought making rain

Took only skill and the instinct to kill,

But you're wrong, 'cause it still remains true—

I must get a kickback from you.

I get a kickback for bribing knaves

With babes like Babs and Lola;

I get a kickback for hosting raves

With coke that ain't Coca-Cola.®

Maybe I've brought people gain;

Maybe, they say, the best way to make hay

Is to lay out a peso or two—

So where is my kickback from you?

Martin and Blane's Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas

Have yourself a mercenary Christmas;

Cultivate your greed:

Make a list of luxuries you think you need.

Have yourself a mercenary Christmas;

Covet each new toy.

Sidle up to Santa Claus, and don't be coy:

Seize his coattails and beg a gift—

Beg a mega-gift—

Beg four.

Come right out and demand a lot—

Kiss his hand a lot—

Kiss more.

If you say, "The thought is all that counts," you're

Holier-than-thou.

Hang the thought! It's avarice that guides us now.

Remind yourself that Christmas is a

Real cash cow.

Warren’s Would You Like to Take a Walk?

Omigod! It's election time again!

Holy crap! The Republicans are back.

Geez Louise! Have you noticed who they're running?

Someone must be funning—

Nothin' good 'll come of that.

Oh, good grief! Must the Democrats debate?

Freakin' A! This is ab-solutely wack.

Hokey smokes! Would you listen to the drivel?

No one's even civil—

Heaven knows, we don't want that.

At the National Convention,

We seek conviction—because we care.

But no, there's no conviction; there's just convection—

Hot air.

Oh, good Lord! Have you seen 'em meet the press?

Golly gee! Do ya think they need a flack?

By the way—did I mention that it's squalid?

Do your pal a solid—

Take a gun and shoot me, stat!