They light the fire
And watch the flames tower and lay waste
To the U.S.A.

The country's on fire;
We glower and glower
While by them we get screwed
Fiddling dumb songs
While Rome burns, and we
Face penury.

Scum to me now,
A pestilence of slime and dimwits.
Nothing is good;
Shmucks lead us to doom;
Their wind blows as they've bloviated.
All have some crimes to them.
Fire burns and we're screwed. . .
Loathsome gals and dudes.

Our House is a very, scary crime house,
With fat cats by the yard--
Liars, crook, and retards,
Yes, every one a sleazebag, bagman too.
Damn our. . .blah, blah, blah. . . .

Our House is a very, very slime house,
Like that in the back yard. . .
A la Québécois: "Marde!"
And every member's leavin's in the loo.
Yes our. . .

Shite in the mire,
Each one in power a con case
Been bought on Street K.