Pull the string and I’ll parrot you;
I’m your puppet.
I know you’re the king and I’m number 2,
I’m your puppet.

I am short, while you’re tall and bold.
Dacha’s where Bush viewed your soul—
Guy’s a puppet.

Pull another string, and I’ll kiss your rift;
I’m your puppet.
Snap your sphincter, and out wind will drift;
I will huff it.

Your every wish is my command;
You wriggle strings behind the scenes, I’ll grandstand.
I’m your puppet

I can annoy like a little boy;
I’m just a hack, can’t fill shoes
Of Czar Wonderful. . .do just what I’m told;
I’ll do anything for you.
I’m your puppet.

Pull the strings on my sickle-imprinted thong,
I’m your puppet.
I’m just a mite, and you are King Kong.
I’m your puppet.

Made of wood, I’m Pinocchio-ing;
See my nose grow as I do your bidding.
I’m your puppet,
Da, I’m your puppet

Walking, crocking, [bull]shitting, shucking puppet,
I’m hanging on a string, burl carved by you in Moscow.

I’m a walking, crocking, [bull]shitting, shucking puppet,
Just a suckup.

Like a lapdog in my place, on the knee of you,
You are adept at ventriloquism too!
I’m your puppet,
And your pup pet.