Oh, my god, Mitt

I’m apparently unfit

To deserve your concern

I ‘m on medicare, you see,

And social security

And you may as well learn

I believe the fed

Should help ’til I’m dead

If I can’t do it on my own

Government should protect me

Certainly not neglect me

None can make it alone

Not even you, for one

A wealthy man’s son

Whose path was paved with green

Don’t tell me that you

Had no helping hand or two —

Have the guts to come clean

Yes,I belong in the tent

Of your scorned forty-seven percent

Except that I pay my tax

Probably more than you pay

On all that loot hidden away

In your huge Cayman stacks

So, go ahead and ignore me

Feel free to deplore me

Say you don’t care what i do

When we push the lever,

You’ll be the griever

And we won’t give a damn about you!