My Father was a Badass, born in 1921.
My Poppa was a Badass;
World War II Veteran.
My Daddy, he would be aghast
if he were around to see
the complete and utter mess
we have made of democracy.
My Father was a Badass,
Electrical Engineer.
My Poppa was a Badass;
secret missions at Hughes
Aircraft.
My Daddy, he would be aghast
if he were alive to see
the blatantly unruly test
of this twisted demagoguery.
Fear-mongering, race-baiting, soul-sucking kleptocracy.
Gas-lighting, pathologically lying conglomeration monopoly.
Mind-f*cking, Fake-Newsing,
Orangutan-run total lunacy.
Demented, cemented,
stuck-in-the-Mud autocracy.
My Father was a Badass,
a cattle-ranching Texan.
My Poppa was a Badass;
he would stand with those who’ve been hexin’
the patriarchy as it stands
on a canopy of flowers over Hell.
My Daddy, he would be aghast
at all the little-boy men in their little boy pants.
My Dad would bust a gasket,
roll over in his casket
If he had one,
but he’s got none
to contain him,
who could blame him
if he persisted and resisted?
Fear-mongering, race-baiting, soul-sucking kleptocracy.
Gas-lighting, pathologically lying conglomeration monopoly.
Mind-f*cking, Fake-Newsing,
Orangutan-run total lunacy.
Demented, cemented,
stuck-in-the-Mud autocracy.
