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!