Once be a big rig deep horizon,
There be trouble and dismay.
There's been bad breaks and lightning,
I see splat, slime, decay.

Go tell "The Crown" they bite,
And the clowns that bring this strife,
Cut these bad goons down to size.

If comes hurricanes ablowin',
We can't defend 'gainst oil strewn.
Must keep rivers ever flowin',
I hear the noise of rage and a screwin'.

Now, just how sound the site?
When eleven lost their life,
Are the sand dunes compromised?

No Rights!

Soap will free an oily feather,
Dopes think we're not aware they lie.
Looks like we're in a ghastly fretter,
Deny has taken to defy.

Oil a-ground in sight,
Once abound there was much life,
O's a buffoon I'd surmise.

Try soundin' some contrite,
And you're bound get back your life,
Now you had soon stem the rise.