Down at the orangish river that waves 'neath the sulfur creek bridge
I fell in love with the mentally-deranged X-governor Tommy Ridge
His coal-mine-deep anals were frigidly off-putting & purely tragical
unlike his knobs that were, what dog Walter Disney called, magical
We fell in fakey love like folks on welfare & we couldn't look back
'cause his big knees were out-swollen by his century-old scrotal sac
1 day we shall conceive 19 Mongoloid kids when nobody's looking
in the attic of hot-lovin' love where we enjoy 100% ****** cooking
At the river of  witches I dug up the moldy corpse of Lloyd Bridges
He appeared unwell as his **** was grooved by hemorrhoid ridges,
& his gray brains were burned, shriveled, unusable, blue & parched
like Mario Soother Bing's crena ani after he'd preached & marched
Lloyd loved me mucho more than he loved Turks for Thanksgiving
before rottin' by the putrefying process after he'd stopped *** living

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