Little think, W,
Like your dad, you're a f*ckup too.
Little think, every day.
I'll be glad when you've gone away.

The way you smirk
Each time that you grandstand.
Turn volume down,
'Cause I can't understand.

You know that Shrub does little think
It's quite clear.
Each time he brays it really
Hurts my ear.

Little think, W,
Kinda slow on the uptake, too.

When you talk,
I cannot understand.
You often balk
At teleprompter scan.

You know that Shrub does little think--
Too much beer
And whiskey he swilled
In his younger years.

You ain't no saint;
You're so deluded, you
Think that it is God's bidding
That you do.

Little think, W,
Not near, dad, as inept as you.
Little think,
So you say
What Karl and Dick tell you to say.

When you squawk,
It is so underhand
When it comes to Iraq,
When's your next blunder planned?

We know that Rove and his ilk
Have got your ear.
They tell you things
That you would like to hear.

Little or none of it
Is even true.
Nonetheless, it is the line
That you spew.