Boffin' men of eighteen
He needed for relief.
His bosses said, "Boys stay green,
So don't be a cherry thief."

Lay 'em in the bummer
Was his mission, on the make.
Bosses then lost their vision,
Turned a blind eye to their gay rake,
Who longed to make 'em cough, l'il misters,
And shove it down their throats
Until they choked, choked.

He'd bombard with email missives
That told 'em just how much he'd dote
On 'em, a legislator runnin' wild,
Schemin' teen seraglio.

CHORUS
He'd a rage for a page,
He'd a rage for a page.

Hog overlord to the rescue?
No, he provided no aid.
There's no girls in this world,
Only fair pages to be made.
Pages put him on the hot seat--
The kind on which ink is shown.
Gland gusts from pages bent. . .
That chance he had, so to speak, blown.

So he did, PDQ, flee
And get right into rehab fast,
It was the booze that made him choose
Legislative lechery
In the house full of bags of gas;
Amazing how fast he got out of town,
Dreaming teen fellatio.

CHORUS

Was the press stopped it;
No bosses stopped it.
They're monkeys who do much evil,
But then none see or hear.
These clowns had eyes and ears plugged
To pages he'd like to juice.
They don't say, "Stop! Stop!!"
Lazy liars who aren't furnished
With brains nature gave a goose;
They let him loose--out of sight, out of mind.
They ain't got a pair. . .or eyes;
These are really useless guys.

They're just apes in cage,
And no ape is a sage.
They'd let him rape a page;
Printed page started rage.
Printed page, too, nailed Craig.
He and "I'm not gay" Craig'd
Rare to be on same page.