Have they got The Hammer?
The Hammer and his whoring?
The Hammer and his sleazing?
They just took his hand,
And they're gonna stain it--
He now goes on a blotter--
Then they're gonna paint his prints and take his ugly picture.
Thank you, jury grand.

If you had to smell
The Hammer every morning,
It would make you queasy,
But he's just one man.
Frist, too's, in danger,
They've given him a warning:
He hammered on his broker for the inside-trading picture.
Next up, jury grand.

Bush has got a tongue
And it trips every morning.
He's brainless so his thinking's
Done by a fat man,
Who put in danger
An agent, without warning.
All that he does is wrong; he's evil and sinister.
Right now: jury grand.

So back to The Hammer,
The Hammer and his cohorts.
The Hammer and his sleazebags--
Cheney and his man
"Scooter"--they pose danger;
We have had ample warning.
The Hammer and his thugs, his ilk are like festered blisters
All over this land.