All He Wants to Do is Golf...
An ode to the Banana Republic of the United States
(To the tune of Don Henley’s All She Wants to Do is Dance. Be thankful I’m not singing this to you.)
They’re picking up neighbors and puttin’ ’em in pens.
And all he wants to do is golf, golf.
MAGA’s gone gaga since I don’t know when.
And all he wants to do is golf.
Black Russian cocktail is the local drink
And all he wants to do is golf, golf, golf.
Mix ‘em up right in the Moscow sink
And all he wants to do is golf.
Crazy people running around with ICE in their eye
And all he wants to do is golf, golf, golf.
Careless pistol wavers who ain’t afraid to lie.
And all he wants to do is
All he wants to do is golf. And piss us off.
Whipping up that heat coming off the street
He wants to bomb stuff. He wants to melt down.
And all he wants to do is, all he wants to do is golf.
Masked dudes slamming workers hard into the ground
And all he wants to do is golf.
To keep them all from doing all the jobs that they could scrounge.
But that won’t keep the DOGE geeks from making a buck or two.
And all he wants to do is golf, golf.
They still can sell the Russians all the data they can do.
And all he wants to do is
All he wants to do is golf. And piss us off.
Well, we barely made the airport for the last plane out.
As we taxied down the runway, I could hear the MAGAs shout
Saying, Don’t come back here, librul!
But if I ever do
I’ll buy more $TRUMP coins
‘Cause all he wants to do is golf. And piss us off.
Whipping up that heat coming off the street.
He wants to bomb stuff. He wants to melt down.
And all he wants to do is
All he wants to do is golf.
(For the original, much better version, listen here. Maybe get the album, Building the Perfect Beast. I bought it when in came out in 1984. Still have the vinyl version. Confessions of a dinosaur.)