The cotton crop is lookin' mighty poor;
They try to grow it on the desert floor.
Oh, no, there's damage done.

Is it a pity when on desert land,
The weevils migrate and then make a stand.
It's not land for cotton.

These cotton profits will go in the tank
If legislators don't open the bank,
Keep a flood of pork runnin' out.

Weevil damage where water's forced to run--
Congress will subsidize it by the ton;
They'll issue junk bonds--not settle the dun.