"Perot For President"
Evil lurks in dark corners
Where even light dares 
Not to tread,
And modern super-heroes
In three piece suits
And fast paced ties
Jockey to be the one
Who will not vanquish it.
They are a diverse bunch,
Big, small, and portly,
Some with double-chins,
And an ever-present Mac Attack.
One who did not inhale;
One who soon won't be able to.
They make me long for the days
Of pizza and "The Dukes of Hazzard"
On a carpeted parlour floor 
In a small Pennsylvania town.
Lying in my Pac-Man pajamas
Which hid my Underoos
I would never be without
I didn't need to worry about pollution,
Or how much my children would owe the world,
Or even nuclear war.

Life was simple then,
As children,
When the biggest worry on a Friday night
Was whether the General Lee
Would make the jump,
And whether Bo and Luke and Daisy
(Especially Daisy)
would get away from the horny car.
And as I lay there,
Very still now,
Hoping I wouldn't be noticed
And I could stay up through "Dallas".
I certainly wasn't worrying
About how I'd pay for my college education,
Or whether ozone depletion would give me
Skin cancer before it was paid for.
Rarely would it work, 
And I was sent to bed.
Just not grown up enough.

Well, I'm all grown up now,
Too grown up if you ask me.
Faced with tough decisions everyday,
Some which could change the world,
I can't help nut view myself 
As that little kid on the carpet
Getting rugburn wrestling with a cousin.
A little kid with rugburn can't pick a leader!!

And now here comes an old man
With chicken legs
I mean feet,
Saying he knows what's best for me.
Maybe he does.
Maybe it's time.
Nothing else has worked, and
No one else has gotten the job done.
Maybe it's time for someone new.
An outsider
     .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .  .

Someone who can make up his own lies.