To the tune of Ol' Man River...

Ol’ man Romney,
That ol’ man Romney,
He must know somethin’
But he just says nothin’,
He keeps on pushin’,
Shoulder to the wheel,
But he don’t say nothin’,
No, nothin’ at all.

He don’t cook taters,
he don’t sew cotton,
and the women that do
are soon forgotten.
The average person
sweats and strains,
trickle-down’s a lie
that results in pain.

Tote them tea bags,
lift that bale,
the rich avoid taxes,
never go to jail.
I gets weary,
and sick of tryin’,
so much delusion,
so much lyin’.