Song parody of
Some Kind of Disaster Relief
by The Taxpayers
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Yeah! You got more trouble
Than you can handle, honey!
What the fuck are you gonna do?
How are you gonna scrape on by?
I do believe that there are two
Things you do in this situation
You leave town or go into hiding
Because some people got brains and
Other people got talent
Others just look good
You and me, we got none of those things
But listen up:
Uh my, my, my, my, what a position:
The love of my life smoking
Crack in the kitchen
Lovely long nails and a nasty half grin:
"It's a living, " she shrugs
It's a missile disguised as an ethic
It's a rabbit suffocating in a rabbit hole
It's politics as usual
Ba Ba Bum, Ba Ba Bum Ba Bum
Ba Ba Bum, Ba Ba Bum Ba Bum
Ba Ba Bum, Some kind of disaster relief
Honest homes simple words, simple words
And honest hopes are like skipping stones
Skipping stones
Well you can tell that things
Are getting terribly real
When the suckers in charge don't even
Gotta lie to the people
And the only megaphone left working
Is attached to a steeple
It's a concrete national forest
It's a kid with a gun at the age of 10
It's like the last dying gasp of a friend
Ba Ba Bum, Ba Ba Bum Ba Bum
Ba Ba Bum, Ba Ba Bum Ba Bum
Ba Ba Bum, Some kind of disaster relief
Yeah! You got more trouble
Than you can handle, honey!
What the fuck are you gonna do?
How are you gonna scrape on by?
I do believe that there are two
Things you do in this situation
You leave town or go into hiding
Because some people got brains and
Other people got talent
Others just look good
You and me, we got none of those things
But listen up:
Uh my, my, my, my, what a position:
The love of my life smoking
Crack in the kitchen
Lovely long nails and a nasty half grin:
"It's a living, " she shrugs
It's a missile disguised as an ethic
It's a rabbit suffocating in a rabbit hole
It's politics as usual
Ba Ba Bum, Ba Ba Bum Ba Bum
Ba Ba Bum, Ba Ba Bum Ba Bum
Ba Ba Bum, Some kind of disaster relief
Honest homes simple words, simple words
And honest hopes are like skipping stones
Skipping stones
Well you can tell that things
Are getting terribly real
When the suckers in charge don't even
Gotta lie to the people
And the only megaphone left working
Is attached to a steeple
It's a concrete national forest
It's a kid with a gun at the age of 10
It's like the last dying gasp of a friend
Ba Ba Bum, Ba Ba Bum Ba Bum
Ba Ba Bum, Ba Ba Bum Ba Bum
Ba Ba Bum, Some kind of disaster relief