Shitbird from the southern sun,
Guy’s a shitbird. . .maybe his race run.
Awful, this blight rolled in. . .
Hope we’ll never see him much more again, yeah!

A shitbird is Murdoch—there’s no way
That is news; he shows it each day.
Euw! it’s some shitbird is Murdoch every day,
Taste of slime.

He left his home in ’stralia,
Headed for the British bay.
And he’s got nothing for morals;
Some of his scumbags goin’ away.

’cause they too are shitbirds like Murdoch, off they pay—
Caught in their crimes. . .pay for play.
Euw! all are shitbirds like Murdoch. . .gone away,
Wasted slime

Looks like something’s gonna change:
Rupert may be out of the game,
’cause the News Corp board might tell Rupert to “shoo”
If they find their bane is the shame. Yech!

Shitbird went north from his home,
Where his crony nest has had to atone.
And to the U.S. he roamed
Where he bought and smirched Dow-Jones.

He brought with him his shit: turd called Fox, where they bray. . .
Watching these guys blow each day
Smoke. Shitbirds on the Fox squawk and bray—
Waste of time.