Achy Breaky Heart (The Dick Cheney Song)
If Dick Cheney ever did karaoke, this will be one song you will not hear
him sing...
You can tell Miss Rice
she'd be a better Vice,
(no Halliburton contracts
when
I'm gone.)
You can tell your friends
just what a fool I've been,
and laugh and joke
about me on the phone (that
I tap)
You can tell my arms:
Never shoot a gun on farms
(You can see my friends
all hit the floor.)
You
can tell my lips
to tell my bag of chips,
I won't be reaching out
for you no more.
Refrain:
But don't tell my heart,
my achy breaky heart,
I just don't think he'd understand.
And
if you tell my heart,
my achy breaky heart,
he might blow up and kill this man.
You can tell your Ma,
I moved to Panama,
you can tell your dog
to bite my leg
(but not the calf).
Worried about my health?,
'go F yourself',
I never really liked you anyway.
The Press is a disease,
tell them anything you please,
'Scooter' knows that leaks are all O.K.
Or you can tell my eyes
to watch out for my mind,
I told
a West Vir-gin-ia joke to-day.
Refrain:
But don't tell my heart,
my achy breaky heart,
I just don't think he'd understand.
And
if you tell my heart,
my achy breaky heart,
he might blow up and kill this man.
But don't tell my heart,
my achy breaky heart,
I just don't think he'd understand.
But
if you tell my heart,
my achy breaky heart,
he might blow up and kill this man.
