MR. TWITTERINE MAN
--------------------------

Hey! Mr. Twitterine Man, play your dong for me,
I'm not sleepy and there ain't no face I wouldn't do.
Hey! Mr. Twitterine Man, play your dong for me,
In the dingle dangle morning I'll come followin' you.

Take me for your trip upon your sinking congress ship,
All my undies have been stripped, and my hands can't feel my slip,
And my eyes behold the Rep., waiting only for my boob feels
To be message'n.
I'm ready to go no underwear, I'm ready for be paid
Unto my shame parade, cast your pulsing throb my way,
I promise to go down on it.

Hey! Mr. Twitterine Man, play your dong for me,
I'm not sleepy and there ain't no face I wouldn't do.
Hey! Mr. Twitterine Man, play your dong for me,
In the dingle dangle morning I'll come followin' you.

Though you might hear laughin', spitin' whine'n sadly across the fun,
It's not blamed at anyone, it's just escapin' on the run
And but for the lie there no consequences facin'.
And if you hear the voices about a Huma Weiner rhyme,
To your tweetering in time, it's just a whiny clown behind,
I wouldn't play it any mind, it's just a shadow you're
Seein' that he's posting.

Hey! Mr. Twitterine Man, play your dong for me,
I'm not sleepy and there ain't no face I wouldn't do.
Hey! Mr. Twitterine Man, play your dong for me,
In the dingle dangle morning I'll come followin' you.

Then dick tweets be appearin' blew the little of my mind,
Down the leggy ruins of slime, far past the dozen Dems,
The haunted, ethics fees, out of the windy bitch,
Far from the twisted reach of crazy Andrew.
Yes, to dance beneath the pantsless sky with one hand waving free,
Silhouetted by MSNBC, circled by the mainstream sands,
With all memory and fate driven deep beneath the press,
Let me forget Weinergate today until tomorrow.

Hey! Mr. Twitterine Man, play your dong for me,
I'm not sleepy and there ain't no face I wouldn't do.
Hey! Mr. Twitterine Man, play your dong for me,
In the dingle dangle morning I'll come followin' you.

Though he knows that evenin's FaceBook put fire into gland,
Meat sword to his hand,
Left blind from the stroke but still not sleeping.
His arrogance amazes you, he landed on his feet,
I have no time to cheat,
And his ancient wife's parts too cold for reaming.

Hey! Mr. Twitterine Man, play your dong for me,
I'm not sleepy and there ain't no face I wouldn't do.
Hey! Mr. Twitterine Man, play your dong for me,
In the dingle dangle morning I'll come followin' you.