The state seat at Sacramento
Is the maddest part of town,
And if you go down there
You'd better just beware of a man named Jerry Brown.

Now Jerry's more than trouble;
You see, he stands for legal pot.
All the downtown ladies call him tree-trunk hugger;
All the men just call him shot.

And it's mad grad [1] Jerry Brown,
The baldest man in the whole damned town,
Sadder than a '60s song [2]
And greener [3] than a backyard frog.

Now Jerry, he's a spender,
And he liked when taxes rose;
And he likes to rave at high-toned flings
In front of every donor's nose.

He got a trusty SmartCar rental;
He got an Element for two.
He got a paintball gun in his pocket for fun;
He got a laser on it too.

And it's fad-plaid [4] Jerry Brown,
The baldest man in the whole damned town,
Sadder than a '60s song
And greener than a backyard frog.

Swell replay out of years ago,
Jerry's runnin' twice [1]
Against a free-market star,
That eBay dame Whitman, and dough-fat Meg could slice.

Well, he cast his spies upon her,
And big trouble soon would dawn,
'Cause Jerry Brown learned a lesson:
No sessions with his staff while a cellphone's on.

And it's bad, sad Jerry Brown,
The baldest man in the whole damned town,
Sadder than a '60s song
And greener than a backyard frog.

Well, those few men cooked the right wing,
And though one called Meg Whitman "whore",
Jerry since kept their big jaws muzzled;
With apologies [5] he would score.

Well, they cast Blue votes in Fresno
And in L. A. and San Fran,
'Cause Jerry Brown was impressin',
Aggressin' with the knife of a zealous man.

And it's glad cad Jerry Brown,
The baldest man in the whole damned town,
Sadder than a '60s song
And greener than a backyard frog;
Yeah, sadder than a '60s song
And greener than a backyard frog.