My way or the highway—
that’s his stance even when he knows that he is wrong.
You will hear that guy say
anything that he wants, and he’ll always say it strong.
He will blurt it out;
he will blurt it loud.

Though not much he’s saying,
he will say it with lips that just are not pursed to tight.
When he isn’t braying,
there is a movement of his mouth that’s a little slight.
He’s a smirking lout,
he’s a smirking lout.

He’s a boor and won’t give you the time
of day, so don’t ask him again.
Though there may be snot and greasy slime
running from his nose to his chin,
he wants to have his way.
Those around him wish that he were gone.
Every day’s a replay
of his smug mug that makes you want to run away.
He will blurt it out;
he’s a smirking lout.

Right upon his lips the snot is rimed,
and it accentuates his grin.
For him it should be handkerchief time,
’cause he can’t keep nose contents in.

Your nerves can this guy fray.
Once he starts to snigger, he just keeps sniggering on.
You look for the highway,
so that as soon as it’s possible you will be gone.
You are swerving out
from this jerk an’ lout.