Never trust the leftards, baby;
They'll bring you pain.
If you trust them at all--
You can't trust those swine at all--
Give them a chance at all,
You won't try that again!

Never should listen to their
old lies and spin;
They're lying perverts, 'cause they
Lie with the perverts--they
Lie, 'cause they're perverts
And they're burning with hate within.

They pretend to care so much
For the people dyin',
But when they talk of caring,
We know they don't really care;
'Cause they've done murder,
And we see right through their lyin'.

When you see the leftards coming,
hide your old dame.
Turn them back from your door;
Whatever they're coming for,
When they are gone once more,
It's worse than when they came.

Doing right's a scandal to them;
Warring's much the same.
Whenever a trooper's fragged,
Whenever a soldier dies
Because the war has dragged,
The leftards are to blame.

When the war is over, then they'll
Redouble their cryin';
We'll heave them over,
Roast them over Hellfire;
Rake them over
In the books for all their lyin'.

Catch a whiff of leftards, baby;
They're at twenty-eight.*
When they're finally gone,
I mean, when they're really gone:
When they are dead and gone,
They'll burn with all their hate.