The veep's slow pawn, the veep's slow pawn.
Drunk, he pounds gin to his booze-bruised brain.
Laddy's led by veep. Laddy's less than dad.

Charlatans are his sages, uh huh,
He just flips through script pages, duh duh.
His ministers say he's the king, yeah, right!
Scheme behind his back and do their thing, that's right.

He's the veep's slow pawn,
The veep's slow pawn.
Drunk, fell down, cracked his lip and caused pain.
Laddy said he'd eat-en a pretzel bad.

He gropes for words, bestupored. Smart? No way!
Twin twit girls are brazen tarts, B., J..
His men conned us into a wasteful war.
Election-seized, the Veep makes the calls more.

He's the veep's slow pawn,
The veep's slow pawn.
Drunk, fell off his bike and got a strain.
Laddy fell asleep, one too many had.

Grandma, grizzled scary wretched witch.
Boisterous wasted girls toot, get a sniff.
Card and Rove for their "master" sling the slime.
Bums, they're sly; each one's been spared from doing time.

He's the veep's slow pawn,
The veep's slow pawn.
Drunk, fell off his Segway up in Maine.
Landed in a heap, one too many had.

He's the Veep's slow pawn,
And the Veep pulls on
Strings of his slow pawn.
He's the creepy spawn
Of a clan gone wrong. . . .