Come and listen to my story about a con named Don
A poor Manhattaneer, barely kept his family out of pawn,
And then one day he was launderin’ some coin,
And up through the ground come some rubles and crude.
Oil that is, black gold, Russian tea.
Well the first thing you know ol’ Don’s a millionaire,
The kinfolk said "Don move away from there"
Said "Mother Russia is the place you ought to be"
So they loaded up the jet and they moved to DC.
D@#$%&bag Central, that is. Swampy pools, tea partyers.
Well now it's time to say good-bye to Don and all his kin.
And we would like to thank you folks fer kindly droppin’ ‘em.
You're all invited back next week to this locality
To hear a heapin’ helpin’ of their conspiracy.
Jail time that is. They’ll set a spell, take their shoes off.
They’re goin’ away now, y'hear?