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Mouthing
Those Platitudes Changes No Attitudes
Shrub took another vacation last month,
His third or fourth of the year.
Forgot all those faces and all of the places;
Trying hard to shake off his fear.
He didn't ponder our questions too long.
His brain couldn't handle the thought.
He wasn't too dumb to get a bottle of rum,
And he cursed the office he'd bought.
'Cause his
Mouthing those platitudes changes no attitudes.
Bush thinks it's all just a game.
With all of his cunning,
He'll still wind up running,
And all that he's got is ol' Bush Daddy's name.
Reading the road signs on his ranch in Crawford
Reminds him of places he's been.
Vision of good times and coke he had snorted;
Dreams it 1970 again.
If it suddenly ended tomorrow,
It would be such a break for us all.
Boot Shrub and his riches and those sons of bitches;
Our country will rise from its fall.
Mouthing those platitudes changes no attitudes.
Bush thinks its all just a game.
Cheney and Rummy can't prop this dummy.
And besides his tax cut, the Shrub has no aim.
(brief instrumental break)
Thinking of Texas when he's high on red wine;
Makes him forget all his shame.
But he can't escape the fact he's a loser;
Being named Bush is his small claim to fame.
Yesterdays are over his shoulder;
He can't remember a damned thing.
He's hoping there's something in front of him.
We all know he was appointed king.
Mouthing those platitudes changes no attitudes.
Bush thinks it's all just a game.
With all of his cunning,
He'll still wind up running,
And all that he's got is ol' Bush Daddy's name.
And all that he's got is ol' Bush Daddy's name.
And because he's lazy, he leans on his name.
(instrumental ending)
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