He came down from Chicago,
From the Lake Michigan shoreline.
A BlackBerry for his mobile. . .
He wants to be online.

Dad was black and his mother
Was as white as a mime clown.
Some think he's the returned Son
Who walks on more than ground.

Stroll on the water. . .
Manna from the sky.

His term's in the blanching house,
Where pale presidents were found.
Duncie clod was last seen hustlin' out. . .
Back to podunk Tex town.

Mensch guy, yeah, then takes over,
And he has got to move apace,
'cause fix time is running out,
Although he's in a state of grace.

Strolls on the water,
The Messiah guy.

Which end is up in the ghastly hell
Left by the dolts who were there?
After Bozo f**kups took us for a ride. . .
Need more than savoir faire.

Now he's got the green light to move ahead,
But do you wanna bet:
He won't be long in a state of bliss.
Soon over will be the fête.

Strolls not on water.
He'll be crucified.