You grab the fishing pole
I'll get a stack of dollar bills
And a red, white and blue bucket.
That should be bait good enough
To snare a few senators.

We'll fry 'em up easy,
God knows they're slippery enough,
We'll season each side carefully with the bitter dreams of the people.
And when they're nice and crispy,
We'll place them on white china.
They'll understand the irony.