Verizon, Verizon,
we call these pricks Verizon.

In waves of air there is a name
for what’s on the horizon.
They take your gelt, they take your dough,
and we call these pricks Verizon.

Verizon blows, there is no doubt,
and clouds your mind with lyin’.
Verizon’s run by thugs and louts,
and it’s bullshit they are plyin’.

Verizon, Verizon,
it’s bullshit they are plyin’.

Before I knew Verizon’s game,
their tel-tale I was buyin’.
But then I found that they had me
by the curlies—no denyin’.

So then one day, I left their world,
I left their world to find me
another carrier but see:
they all will get behind me.

Behind me, behind me
to sphincterally pry me.

It ain’t just them that are a bane,
they are hardly the only
ones that will get me on their phone plans
and then tele-bone me.

I went and got myself a plan
from what’s now AT&T.
The very first day, they screwed me. . .
the same old tele-phony.

Horizon, horizon—
no help on the horizon.

Connivin’, connivin’
phony companies.