You're on Your Last Go 'Round

Every time a guy that's a running for office comes around he kisses your kids, hugs your wife, cranks your car, winds up your cat, and puts out your clock.. He'll Kid you and skid you, he’ll pull you and bull you, he’ll take you and shake you, he'll scrape you and rape you, he'll kiss you and miss you, he'll smell you and sell you, he'll promise to live with you, marry you, send you money, give you a job, put you up in business, build you a hornet plant you a garden, ship you some chickens and smuggle you a bottle of whiskey from Old Mexico .. He'll promise you everything you need and say the best aint good enough for you. He'll have you thinking the old world has at last changed and is a heaven on earth -- or will be after he is in office the first fifteen minutes. They screek, squeak, and speak. They hire guys to write 'em up some mighty pretty speeches. But -- all of those airy promises, all of the B.S. -- whatever becomes of it? Well it won't be long till some feller in your town or country will be a combing your wife's hair and a pulling your leg at the same time with a smile on his face that looks like the west end of a heifer Going east. Next time he comes ‘round ask him a few things; ask him how he voted on the groceries and job and pension and house and money you need. Sing him this song; it's just a little old song I sung on the air waves out there on the coast; it might not have coasted back east a--tall, I never did find out. Anyhow, it looks better than it sounds. I mean it sounds better when you sing it by yourself than when I sing it by myself and you can use it to kick your congressman’s pants when he comes back from his next lying trip to the Capitol.