Day after day, it goes on the spill
While men sit with foolish grins,
The seeping stoppage near nil.
It’s not just the BP dolts that
We seethe at; the government fools
Are clueless and have no answer.

They’re all fools, and the spill
Keeps pumping poison out;
They’ve got rocks in their heads. . .
An environment rout.

Well fouls the bays,
Henna the shroud
Of dreck from the fouling oil mess—
Awful, all of this crowd.

These dopes talk, but no one hears them
’cause they’re clowns, as we feared, and snakes.
Obama’s taking scant notice.

They’re all fools, and the spill
Keeps pumpin’, oily spout.
They’ve got rocks in their heads. . .
No one’s got any clout.

Now nobody seems to like them;
We can tell that they’re useless tools.
An oil slick is more appealing. . .

Than these fools, and the spill
Keeps pumpin’, oily spout.
They’ve got rocks in their heads. . .
And time's past running out.

Oh, clowns, they’re clowns. . . .

So why bother listening to them,
The blowhards and the fools?
They’ve got no plan. . .

The fools, for the spill
Keeps pumpin’, oily spout.
They’ve got rocks in their heads. . .
Black slime keeps running out. . . .

Oh, out and out and out. . . .