Here is the next batch of “Songs to Complain By.”
Sung to tune of Kaw Liga (misinterpreted by us and others as Elijah)
Here’s our unfinished version:
Good ol’ ________,* never had to think/ Jus’ keeps a pourin’ that ol’ red ink.
Is it any wonder he likes it so that way/ It’s me, not him, that has to pay.
*[editor’s note: name of any politician]
And, to the tune of “Mountain Dew” which DDH learned from Vermont country fiddlers:
And our version of the lyrics:
My Uncle Sam owns a mint in San Fran/ Where he rolls off a billion or three
And the countries in red ink/ git so dizzy they can’t think/ Usin’ that good old currency
An example of late — there is a state/ It’s got more steel mills than steel
‘Spite of aid galore/ They keep askin’ for more/ More of that good old currency
My Uncle Will politicks on the Hill/ Lives in a … “developing” country
He serves a plate/ That’s the damnedest I’ve ate,/ Paid for with that good old currency
They call it that good old currency/ and them that refuses is still free
I’ll shut up my mug, if you’ll find a plug/ On the drain on our good old currency
They call it that good old U.S. Gold/ Damned few that refuses, I’m told
I’ll shut up my mug, if you’ll find a plug/ For the drain on our good old U.S. Gold.
Tune in soon, for the fourth and final post in this series.