They're selling applications for the election
They're painting the "Vote for Me" signs
The Cable News is crammed with pundits
It's California Carnival time.
Here comes the castrated governor
They've got him in a trance
One hand is tied to Bustamante
The other is in his pants
And the lobbyists are restless
They need someone they know
As Lady and I look down tonight
On California Recall Row
Angelyne, she seems so easy
"It takes one to know one," she smiles
And pulls on her monokini,
Barbra Streisand style
And in rolls Larry Flynt, he's drooling
"You Belong to Me I Believe"
And someone says," You're in the wrong place, Jabba,
You better leave"
And the only sound that's left
After the Special Interests go
Is Schwarzenegger sweeping up
On California Recall Row
Now the deficit's exploding
The Democrats are beginning to hide
The Letterman and Leno Shows
Are working up their monologues inside.
All except for Coleman and Gallagher
And that aging porno dame
Everybody is laying odds
Or else expecting fame
And the Terminator, he's dressing
He's getting ready for the show
He's orchestrating the Carnival
On California Recall Row
Now Arianna, she's 'neath the spotlight
She's working on her tan
On her fifty-second birthday
She's already an also ran
To her, SUVs are quite Satanic
She likes to play the eco-card
Her profession's spewing blather
Her sin is her self-regard
And though her eyes are fixed upon
Sacramento's great rainbow
She spends her ex's money seeking
California Recall Row
Bustamante, disguised as a candidate
With the vowel-driven Latino vote
Is the "only credible Democrat"
Unless they run a stoat.
He looked so immaculately frightful
As he trimmed his Castro mustache
Then promised everyone a driver's license
And free Pakistani Hash.
Now you would not think to look at him
But he was famous long ago
For playing the Lieutenant Governor
On California Recall Row
Dr. Flynt, he keeps his scrotum
Inside of a leather cup
But all his sex-crazed readers
They're trying to fill it up
Now his whores, those local losers
They're in charge of his cyanide hole
And they also wave the signs that say:
"Elect This Diseased Soul"
They all mount him for pennies
You can hear them blow
If you can get your head around
California Recall Row
Across the street they've nailed up Gallagher
They're getting ready for the feast
Those political consultants
Who've got more morals than a priest
They're spoonfeeding old Bill Simon
So he feels he's among the elect
Then they'll kill him with self-confidence
After cashing his last big check.
And consultants are emailing op-ed wonks
"Get Outa Here If You Don't Know
Bill Simon is just being punished for going
To California Recall Row"
In October all the handlers
And the election stacking crew
Will come out and round up everyone
That votes more left than they do
Then they bring them to the polling place
Where the hanging-chad machine
Is thrust into their little paws
And a speech from Howard Dean
Is broadcast by Rush Limbaugh
To the Dittoheads who go
Check to see that nobody is voting twice
On California Recall Row
Praise be to Darrell Issa
This Titanic sails at dawn
And everybody's shouting
"What the Hell is going on?"
And Gray Davis and Bustamante
Fighting in the capitol's tower
While talk-show hosts all laugh at them
And the Trial Lawyers send flowers.
I'm on the beaches by the sea
Where lovely surfers flow
And nobody ever thinks too much
About California Recall Row
Yes, I signed your petition Saturday
(While wandering around the Mall)
When you asked if I would vote for you
I said only if you crawl
All these people that are running
Yes, I know them, they're quite crazed
I'll have to memorize their faces
And only vote when I'm fully dazed
Right now I can't think too clear
Don't send me no more candidates no
Not unless you hang them in
California Recall Row
