Oh, his name, it is Serbian. His age, it's obsessed.
The country he comes from is called the Midwest.
I's taught and brought up there, the laws to abide
but that land that I live in has Rod on its side.

Oh the history books tell it, they tell it so well:
The politicians charged with crimes that do smell.
The D.A.'s, they charged, the politicians lied.
Now the Governor's office has Rod on its side.

Oh, the Republican Mayors in Chicago, corrupt.
The mobsters they dealt with, the flappers they schtupped.
The Democrats replaced them, but took the same ride.
That city on Lake Michigan has Rod on its side.

Oh, the first Richard Daley relied on his cops.
His son is now Mayor, has avoided Dad's flops.
Bilandic'ed and Byrne'd, and Washington they tried.
But you don't count the money when Rod's on your side.

When the Kerner Commission came to an end
we stuck him in jail even though we were friends.
And the new Governor, Walker, in jail he had fried.
And when Ryan got slapped, we got Rod on our side.

I've learned to hate politics all through my whole life.
Legislators and Aldermen, our backs, their knives.
To hate them and fear them, to run and to hide
and accept it all bravely with Rod on our side.

But along came a Senator we found we could trust
and sent him to the White House, to cleanse and to dust.
To fill his Senate seat, Blagojevich will decide
and you never ask questions when Rod's on your side.

In a many dark hour, I've been thinkin' about this:
That Rod's a profane one, and so is his Miss.
But I can't think for you, you'll have to decide
whether Abraham Lincoln has Rod on his side.

So now as I'm leavin', I'm weary as Hell.
The confusion I'm feelin', ain't no tongue can tell.
The words fill my head and roll down the line:
If Rod's on our side, today he'll resign.