Overdose

Tiger's got a calendar's worth
Of lovely women as his prize,
And half the world can say with mirth
They've seen between sweet Britney's thighs.

What ever would our life be like
If we had no way to keep track
On Bradgelina's newest tyke
Or Jessica's (possibly) fake rack?

So swallow your pill
Of MTV
Of who's fucking which celebrities
And chase it down with flavored booze
That tastes like sweet catastrophes.

"He's not a citizen!" they say
"Well, where's the birth certificate?"
See, dear old Rush has made his play
To tell them how the world should fit.

It's so much easier to believe
What you don't want doesn't exist
But sweetheart, life won't take its leave
Just for your dreamworld to subsist.

So swallow your pill
Of what you're told
Of conspiracy theories that don't grow old
And chase it down with sweet moonshine
That reaks of sheep within their fold.

I'm sure you know the world's at war
And we all have so much empathy--
But I'll be damned if closet doors
Don't hide more worthwhile legacy.

Sir Politician's lady-friends
(or sometimes boyfriends, as it were)
Each manner of scandals lends
Itself to more and higher worth.

So swallow your pill
Of TV news
Of drama, "sex sells," Senator's excuse
And chase it down with home-made hooch
That's made with sensationalist's enthuse.