They say that Willard Romney loaned and laughed when plants shut down,
With more off-shore bank connections to spread his wealth unfound.
Born in Mormon family, a governor's heir child,
He had everything a man could want: power, grace, grand style.

But I worked in Bain's factories,
And I cursed that lifeless living
And I cursed my poverty.
But Mitt left turn-century,
Saved Olympics' solvency,
Rose to Statehouse in '03,
Wizard Romney.

The tabloids print his pictures; all boast clever weekly scolds:
Willard Romney's jet-ski hop-aboard with Ann Romney at controls;
And the two-fers of her Caddies and the four-car lift he's bought!
Oh, his marriage must be happy with the only wife he's caught.

But I see Bain-closed factories
And my purse was rifled, giving,
Making worse my poverty.
Unemployment checks for me,
"Food stamps" [1] for my family;
Massachusetts' heathcare's "free"
Thanks to Romney.

He freely salvaged bankruptcies, he had the Midas touch,
And they were grateful for his expertise and bankrolled very much.
So my mind was filled with wonder when those scrolling headlines read:
"Romneys party election night when states that polled as blue turn red."

Now I'll work in new factory,
And I'll thirst for life and living
And I'll burst from poverty.
Then Americans would see
Equal opportunity,
With all wishing they could be
Rich like Romney.