They got this Garvey clown
Out there where the sun shines down
Can’t carve his own niche because he’s Trunt’s bitch
That is the Garvey clown

They got this Garvey clown
With all that Trunt does he’s down
A ball he could pitch, but that don’t mean shit
Irrelevant renown

Completely full o’ bunk
He’s parroting Trunt junk
As a pol he’s green
From all that we’ve seen
Stepford grin, never frowns

He’s got nothing to share
Mouth full of empty air
Merely a Trunt tool
At least he don’t drool
And spew out treason sounds

Looks like a harmless clown
But looks deceive, he’s bound
To his master, Trunt
Though he ain’t upfront
About his bowing down

Where was Garvey fame found?
Played ball in L.A. town
Good at the bat, long gone at that
Why is he still around?

Yet we are doomed to hear
Him yammer till it’s here
Election, but he’s
Till then on his knees
And to Trunt bending down

He’s sappy as can be
In crappy company
He’ll be out of sight
Post-election night
End Garvey’s garbled sounds