(piano intro)

Dense Alberto.
Why don't you come to your senses?
You've pushed Dubya's pretenses
for so long, now.
Whoa, he's a hard-head.
I know that he's got his reasons.
These things you've been sleazin' through
have hurt us somehow.

No, she's not a queen, Ms. Miers, boy.
To think fair, she's not able.
This scheme, no heart, it's George's, you can bet.
Now, it seems to me some fine folks
had their law careers disabled
because loyal to the Prez is what you'll get.

Dense Alberto.
You forget Constitution.
We need much restitution
and you should go home.
It's freedom, glorious freedom.
All over it, you're walking.
A prison, you're stalking
if true justice did roam.

Don't your feet get cold when you face your boss?
And Rove and Cheney, you just won't cross.
It's hard to tell the right ones from the left.
You're losing credibility.
Ain't it funny how of that you'll be
bereft?

Dense Alberto.
Why don't you come to your senses?
Just drop these pretenses
you adjudicate.
This land you're shaming
and there's a dark cloud above you.
I see the Congress now will shove you.
(Congress now will shove you!)
Bush is the last one who'll love you.

So now it's too...

late.

(piano close)