Having a Beer With the President

 

the chauffeur’s dozed off in the limosine
sleeping through three happy hours
the room’s full of guys in dark glasses and ties
who are mumbling into their scotch melon sours
there’s someone from homeland security
snapping the pretzels in half
hey barkeep, the shrub’ll be needing a double
to pose for this next photograph

we’re having a beer with the president
taking him back to his roots
he falls off the wagon and raises his flagon
and half of the country salutes
he may be a spoiled Texas billionaire
but that only shows when he’s dry
oh somehow he’s able from under the table
to look like a regular guy

his bodyguards hiccup incessantly
his personal groomer turns pink
his camera crews are adrift in the booze
which his personal food taster spews in the sink
his speechwriter drools on the countertop
in midst of a vast monologue
on closer inspection, this so called election
is really just hair of the dog

we’re having a beer with the president
we feel he’s the staunchest of men
his past may be checkered, but he holds the record
for number of times born again
the trouble with skill and intelligence
is they make a guy seem less sincere
but anyway who wants a guy full of nuance
what we want’s a guy full of beer!

so stay, stay, stay the course,
stick to the firm unwavering path,
stay, stay, stay the course,
I’m seeing double and can’t do the math
hold steady and hold fast
through the long long haul

his tongue may be tied, his speech may be slurred,
but we’re gonna hang on every word
our man of decision won’t be deterred
he’s got a vision — albeit blurred
we won’t be shaken, we won’t be stirred
from the long bar crawl
our nation’s values must be preserved
in alcohol

my eyelids are heavy as soccerballs
I’m not really sure where we are
he seems more coherent with every beer,
until noise interferes from the end of the bar
it’s a cheer from the cherry-nosed delegates
awash in a puddle of Buds
they’re all in a frenzy, they’re calling “MacKenzie!
we nominate President Spuds!”

we’re having a beer with the President
he isn’t stuffy or posh
he isn’t nuanced or hesitant
now that he’s totally shloshed
oh what a dishplay of comwadewie
the charges pile higher until
it’s billions of bucks which he promptly deducts
so it looks like we’re shtuck with the bill
for the beer for the pwesident
we’re spwinging for wound after wound
we might have to borrow the mortgage tomorrow
once all of our shorrows have dwowned!
we cannot pwonounsh shertain conshonantsh
but at weasht we can shing weawwy woud
bartender, bartender, four more for our friend here
to pwove that he’s one of the cwowd
as Amewicans we can be pwoud
that our pwesident’s getting us pwowed!