An open letter to the fat
Known as President John Adams
The man's irrational. He claims that I'm in league
With Britain in some vast international intrigue?
You wouldn't know what I'm doin'
You're always goin' berserk
But ya never show up to work
Give my regards to Abigail
Next time you write about my lack of moral compass
At least I do my job up in this rumpus!
The line is behind me
I crossed it again
While the president lost it again
Aw, such a rough life
Better run to your wife
Now the boss is in Boston again
Let me ask you a question. Who sits
At your desk when you're in Massachusetts?
They were calling you a dick back in '76
And you haven't done anything new since
You're a nuisance with no sense
You'll die of irrelevance
Go ahead, you can call me the devil
You aspire to my level
You inspire to malevolence
Say, "Hi," to the Jeffersons!
And spies all around me
Maybe they can confirm
I don't care if I kill my career with this letter
I'm confining you to one term
Sit down, John
You fat motherfucker!