|
You're a mean one, Mr. Glitch. you really are a heel you're as sneaky as a hacker, about as honest as Katherine Harris when you've got some votes to steal Mr. Glitch. you're a vicious virus part of a viral backroom deal you're a robber, Mr. Glitch your counts leave open holes you count backwards, tally forwards and even eat the numbers for your masters on the dole. we know you're up to something but with that shiny modem we can't touch you with a thirty-nine foot pole
You're a vile one, Mr. Glitch You have dollar signs on your screen You've all the light and sweetness of Dick Cheney making speeches and you're programmed to be mean. Given the choice between you, I'd rather have Dick Cheney on the scene. You're a foul one, Mr. Glitch you're a smelly little skunk you can be accessed by hackers and other republican crackers who aim to fill you up with junk Mr. Glitch The three words that best describe this country since your work on November 2nd are "Sink, Sank, Sunk."
You're a Rotter, Mr. Glitch You're the spawn of sinful plots Your heart's a dead democracy of haves halving votes of the have-nots. Mr. Glitch. Your code's an uncertified dump heap overflowing with the most calculated attempts at thieving imaginable covered up in "terrorist" plots.
You disgust me, Mr. Glitch you've cast an appalling pall you're a crooked counting lackey playing winner-steals-all. Mr. Glitch You're a triple decker phony acting innocent for money while reporters chirp along, kindly asquiescing as you keep the nation guessing with your "Oops-a-daisy" song. Mr. Glitch.
|