Gla**es are octave and in it they swim...
round in a circle as we all look in
Tetras of beauty and glorious array...
tails like silk scarves swimming to play
Life in a fish bowl open and pure...
no taxes or politicos and that's for sure
Standing on soap boxes to fiend...
away all the sharks that surely look in
To judge and be judge to pitiful cries...
of vote yes or here too the issue will die
For presidents smoking their long dead charoots...
while pages for power don't give a hoot
Life in a gla** house is fodder for souls...
who aren't as lucky as those in a bowl
For fishes are happy and contented to swim...
when demos that defy voters, pretend
That s** isn't SEX and cigars aren't Havannas...
when Irish mean cry for laughs of nirvana
And did he say that...
wasn't Clinton the one...
that gave us a Playboy in Air Force 1
Now when the reporters get finished with Will...
can we still call him "pres" on capitol hill
Or will indictments speak volumes when terms are all gone...
and fishes named Hillary battle alone
The senate race calls and what happens to Bill...
when his time is all done on the great White House Hill
No gla** house menageries coming in vision...
for Wills behind clinked doors in federal prison
But this is American land of all hopes...
where you can be swimming or living with dopes
Then one day you too can order a meal...
and have us look on from across the seal
Of the White House and roomy gla** walls for fans...
to beseech thee and wonder who plays in your band
Is it Monica, Marilyn or some other floozy...
or perhaps an unknown to make us all woozy
Careful you politicos we all are so tired...
so give us a good one or else you're all fired!
If you vote then its your fault for putting them "in"
if you don't then its your fault for letting them win.