Don’t give her a bullhorn,
Don’t give her a microphone,
Don’t give her two tin cans.

Take her hands,
Staple them to her tongue,
See if she’s useless then.

Look in her eyes,
Stab them with,
Feathered pens. 

Carve up her mind,
With lies like,
She lacks intelligence.

Tell her to get up on stage,
But trip her along the way. 
Slap her sobbing face,
Pour molasses in your ears because,
You haven’t got the guts to hear about her tears.