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The Gridiron Dinner: Schmoozing Newsies

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At Saturday night's 125th annual Gridiron Dinner -- meaning the first one took place two centuries ago in 1885 -- there were three speakers: An ex-president, who seemed thrilled to be back in Washington doing stand-in, stand-up comedy, and a Republican and a Democratic senator who were just a wee bit raunchy.

Bill Clinton, who spoke best and last, arrived late because he'd spent part of Saturday on the phone lobbying wavering Democrats on health care.

"So tell the truth guys, do you miss me?" he asked more than 600 media heavies, politicians, consultants, business leaders and diplomats gathered at the Renaissance Washington Hotel to dine on cold asparagus and crab soup, veal chops and copious quantities of wine.

Though he never got his own health care overhaul, Clinton predicted passage of this one. "It may not happen in my lifetime or in Dick Cheney's but hopefully by Easter," cracked Clinton, who shares a history of heart trouble, but seemingly little else, with the former GOP veep. "Nowadays, my favorite cocktail is Lipitor on the rocks."

Usually it's the president or vice president who speaks at the end of a dinner that includes elaborately costumed musical skits that skewer Republicans and Democrats [see lyrics]. But Barack Obama, for the second successive year, sent his regrets (he went to Camp David last year, and this year scrapped his Indonesia trip to wrangle health care votes). Joe Biden, the 2009 proxy, also took a pass. So Clinton took over, which Obama acknowledged in a brief, pre-dinner video greeting.

Sen. Claire McCaskill of Missouri, who delivered the Democrats' speech, wondered what Obama would even gain by coming and "sucking up to the media. The press went all the way on the first date." As for lust, the 56-year-old lawmaker mused: "There is only one place a woman my age can feel like a hot young chick. It's the United States Senate. . . . Every time I talked about Missouri being the Show Me state, I had to tell David Vitter to put his pants back on." [Pause] "Clinton likes that one," cracked McCaskill, eyeing the former president on her right after she finished dissing the Louisiana Republican senator. Vitter was identified by the "D.C. Madam" three years ago as a client of a ring of working girls. In Washington, McCaskill said, there are differences between a prostitute and a politician. "There are some things even a hooker won't do."

Utah's tee-totaling Mormon Sen. Orrin Hatch, speaking for the Republicans, raised a few eyebrows with his brand of mild raunch: "When I went through security, they asked me if I had a bomb in my underwear. Modesty, of course, kept me from answering truthfully. . . . My wife knows me as the original stimulus package, and it's better than the one we have." Bada-boom.

The Gridiron Club, founded in 1885, has nothing to do with football and everything to do with comity and the cultivation of political sources, not to mention the feeding, stroking and introducing of all those editors, publishers and owners to important guests, most of whom drive the wait staff nuts by jamming the aisles to socialize.

It is the smallest (only 600 attendees), fanciest (white tie and tailcoats for the gents, don't cha know) and least exposed of the Washington media extravaganzas. (It's never been on C-SPAN; although nominally off the record, it is tweeted and blogged, about, even by some of the the club's members and Lord knows how many guests these days).

The audience is long on officials and short on pop stars and scandal magnets. You won't find John Edwards or Tiger Woods among such luminaries as Valerie Jarrett, David Axelrod and Susan Sher of the White House; Transportation Secretary Ray LaHood, Education Secretary Arne Duncan, Agriculture Secretary Tim Vilsack, Health and Human Services Secretary Kathleen Sebelius. There were Republicans, too, including RNC Chairman Michael Steele and former House Majority Leader Tom DeLay. And the only glimpse of White House gate-crashers Michaela and Tareq Salahi were onstage, played by Bloomberg's Al Hunt and his sari-clad wife, Judy Woodruff of the PBS "NewsHour."

This year's show was a victory for the club's unofficial rock 'n' roll caucus, which since the late 1980s has sought to build musical parodies more contemporary than mid-20th-century show tunes and 19th-century operatic arias. Cindy Lauper, Michael Jackson and Queen may not sound all that hot, but the 2010 songbook represents exponential progress. Trust me on this one. I've been a club member since 1990.

The Gridiron Dinner is the second in what I call the Rites of Spring Media Trifecta. The first event was held on St. Patrick's Day by the Radio and Television Correspondents' Association, with BBC America throwing a glam after-party nearby. After Gridiron comes what has grown into a three-day orgy of parties small and large melding the Washington-Hollywood-New York axis of celebs, journos and pols. They're all scheduled around the May 1 White House Correspondents' Association Dinner for 2,500 guests, many of them stalwarts of stage, screen, cable, gossip columns and supermarket tabloids.

Stay tuned.

For those of you who weren't invited, here are the skit lyrics:

Democrats Are in Big Trouble

(Billie Jean)

He hit the scene in his mom jeans

He was so serene

He told me Nancy

Don't you worry

I am the one

Who can raise GDP from the dead

He said I am the one

Happy days, world peace

Are ahead

I told the Blue Dogs

Don't be scaredy cats

Or flee like rats

We've got a mandate

To spend and tax

We are the ones

Who can pass anything, just relax

Someone forgot to tell me

Scott Brown would be a hit

And turn us all into populists

And no one thought to tell me

How quickly we would fade

Pushing cap and trade

And Nebraska's Medicaid

Democrats are in big trouble

We can't blame Dubya

Now that we are the ones

And Barack don't have to run

Now that we are the ones

Town hall meetings ain't much fun

Be careful what you wish for

'Cause leadership is hard

So many things to regulate

Thank God for all our spending

We've got a credit card

And we hoped that all that snow

Would shut down the CBO

Hey, Hey

Democrats are in big trouble

We've got incumbents leaving Congress in mobs

But we count those as new jobs

All those tea party mobs

Make it hard to do my job

Democrats are in big trouble

BEAT IT

They told Republicans don't come around here

They wanted us to vote with them or disappear

Well I am Mitch McConnell and I made it real clear

We'd beat 'em

We couldn't do much but we had to save face

While Limbaugh and Glen Beck were riling up our base

So we used filibusters to slow down the pace

Can't beat it

We don't have to play fair

Just beat it, beat it, beat it

Say we don't have time to read it

Hold nominations, dig up some dirt

Make them get cloture until it's absurd

Just beat it, beat it

Don't ask for our solutions, we're not playing that game

It's easier to criticize and fix the blame

We chased off Dodd and Bayh and Byron what's-his-name

We beat 'em,

And watch out John McCain

Just beat it, beat it, beat it

We will just say no, defeat it

We left Obama one giant mess

That is the secret to our success

Just beat it, beat it

Just beat it!

Black and White

(Black or White)

A D.C. ballroom on a Saturday night

The mighty Gridiron turning 125

We've abandoned some traditions

We've got TV stars

who don't even write

But men who come to Gridiron

Still have to wear a tie that's white

We blog and twitter and we shoot video

But we're still looking for a way to make dough

You got Kindles, I-Pads, netbooks

Every fancy way

to read megabytes

But the only people paying are the ones

Who read in black and white

It's black and white

And meg- abytes

It's black and white

Let's us survive

Its black and white

Our suits? Too bright!

Our club -- all right

One twenty five

So welcome to the Gridiron

We hope that you're not here all night

So welcome to the Gridiron

We hope that you're not here all night.

It's a Grand Year for Running

(from State Fair: "It's a Grand Night for Singing")

It's a grand year for running

The GOP's flying high

The tea parties show

We can beat them with "NO!"

While screaming our hearts to the sky!

It's a grand year for running

The stars are all aligned

Rush Limbaugh's a-glow

Glen Beck adds to the show

We think we can clean up this year,

Clean up, clean up this year.

It's a grand year to block things

Pelosi's running scared

We'll stop cap and trade

Rain on their parade

'Cause Palin is now on the air.

It's a year for obstruction

The scene's like '94

Our majority's near

If there's no new affair

So fellas, please zip up this year,

Zip up, Zip up this year.

BRIDGE:

Maybe it's more than the war

Maybe it's more than the banks

Maybe it's more than retiring Dems

Retirements deserving our thanks!

Maybe it's more than health care

Though that really helped raise our stock

Maybe the reason we're feeling so swell, Has something to do with Ba-rack!

It's a grand year for running

The GOP's flying high

The tea parties show

We can beat them with "NO!"

While screaming our hearts to the sky!

It's a grand year for running

The scene's like '94

Our majority's near

If there's no new affair

So fellas, please zip up this year

Zip up, zip up this year

Not Born in the USA

(from "Born in the USA" by Bruce Springsteen)

I've been thinkin' 'bout our prez-e-dent

And his liberal pinko commie bent

We got a foreigner in the White House now

And to all them other foreigners, he takes a bow

He's not born in the USA

He's not . . . born in the USA

His birth certificate's a mystery

For all we know he's from Nairobi

'May be from Kenya, I was told last fall

I heard it from the Birthers and they know it all

He's not born in the USA

He's not . . . born in the USA

He's got a darn sus-pi-cious middle name

Amer-i-cans don't name their kids Hussein

He claims Hawaii but the hell I say

Hawaii isn't even in the USA

He's not born in the USA

He's not . . . born in the USA.

TEA FOR TWO

We're right, they're wrong, we're millions strong

With quiet voice, Say no to choice

We're not the wing nuts you see on TV.

We can't abide Obama-crats

Kill Fannie Mae

Close Freddie Mac

We won't bail out

Another freaking thing!

Our revolt is televised

It's Rachel Maddow we despise

So next, let's shut down M-S-N-B-C!

The tea party movement, will bring much improvement

On taxes and spending, there will be no bending

Our dear Constitution says nothing 'bout evolution

Fox News will tote how you will vote

And you can note how Fox will gloat

When tea parties have spread around the world!

We will raise strong families

Adam and Eve . . .

not Adam and Steve

Can't you see how far right we will be!

HOW CAN I MISS YOU (Cheney)

How can we miss you when you won't go away,

Keep telling you day after day,

But you won't listen, you only stay and stay,

How can we miss you when you won't go away.

When Dubya left office, he rode straight out of town,

His mission was accomplished, as they say.

We kinda like Dick's daughter so she's welcome to hang on,

Just tell your daddy we sure wish that he'd be gone.

We won't forget you, Dick, just please go away,

You keep mouthing off, day after day,

How can we move on if you only stay and stay?

We want to miss you but you won't go away.

When Biden talks to Blitzer, Dick always goes on Fox,

He claims Obama's dithering away.

It's time to look forward, the party's moving on,

Get to your bunker Dick, now hurry, better run!

The fish are biting, so Dick go fish away,

Or else go hunting, we'll keep out of your way,

A one-way ticket, anyplace, we'll gladly pay,

We're gonna miss you, pretty please, go away.

GETTING BACK THE GLITZ

Times were tough, we didn't know

Where our bonuses were to go

But we took no hits

Now we're getting' back the glitz

Come let's mix where Hampton-iters

Weekends go with spend-the-nighters

Big time chits

Now we're getting' back the glitz

Dressed up like George Clooney in a movie

Wall Street treats us like we're really groovy

Great guys to be!

Main street woes, why should we care

J-P Morgan would never dare

Take away our bliss

So they gave us back our glitz

Press corps hoped we'd all go broke

Thought our woes were just a big joke

They should call it quits

'Cause their business is the pits.

Bought a private jet and flew to Cabo

Airline flights for us are just a no-no

No pro bono

Times were tough, they didn't know

Where their bonuses were to go

But they took no hits

Now they're getting back the glitz.

YOU WON'T SURVIVE

(Gloria Gaynor's "I Will Survive")

(Rep. Michele Bachman and Sen. Jim DeMint)

We tried to warn the nation; we were petrified.

There'd be death panels at the door; your care would be denied.

And when they finally pass that bill, you'll see how horrid it will be.

'Cause Harry Reid could say 'no' to your colonoscopy.

You won't survive; you won't survive.

They say it's health reform, but we know that's just Democratic jive.

So if your arm breaks or your head aches, hey, the doctor's always in.

And there's a brand-new surgeon general; his name's Jack Kevorkian.

DeMint:

Need an M-D? Go hope and pray,

Because the waiting room's now packed, just like the freeways in L-A.

Forget the Hippocratic Oath and say good-bye to Medicare.

They're gonna pull the plug on granny and recycle her wheelchair.

Bachman:

You won't survive; just face the facts.

Even John Boehner's odd complexion paled. Hey, blame the tanning tax.

So if you need your toe transplanted and your pain makes you say 'Ow!'

Just take a number 'cause we're all now in the care of Chairman Mao.

You won't survive; just face the facts.

Even John Boehner's odd complexion paled. Hey, blame the tanning tax.

So if you need your toe transplanted and your pain makes you say 'Ow!'

Just take a number 'cause we're all now in the --

(extended) Care - Of - Chair - Man - Mao.

ORRIN HATCH SONG

"Cover of the Rolling Stone," by Dr. Hook and His Medicine Show

Well he's a Senate singer, not a Gridiron ringer, he writes tunes by the boatload,

He sings about Teddy and he sings about Jews, and he sells out all his shows.

He never takes a toke, and he tells real clean jokes, but the thing about Orrin you should know,

Is the thrill it would getcha if you saw his picture on the cover of the Rolling Stone.

Rolling Stone.

I just want to make the cover.

Stone.

Be a Mormon heartthrob lover.

Stone.

I would cast the 60th vote, If they'd put me in the Rolling Stone.

He gave up his dream of joining the Supreme, though he'd like it if the president asked.

He reads Scripture on his tour bus, he keeps grape juice in his flask.

He'd love to win a Grammy, show up wearin' jammies, he's a rebel don't cha know,

Yet the Orrin you would see, ain't the Orrin who would be, on the cover of the Rolling Stone.

Rolling Stone.

Got the Tabernacle in my chorus.

Stone.

Yeah my music never ever bores us.

Stone.

I would get the cool kids' vote, on the cover of the Rolling Stone.

Rolling Stone

I can sing much better than Jeff Bridges.

Stone

Got a posse bigger than Tom Ridge's.

Stone.

I could end the gridlock here, if they'd put me in the Rolling Stone.

They put him in the Rolling Stone.

We Are the Champions

(from Queen's "We Are the Champions")

I've paid my dues,

Sometimes it was tough,

To earn bread for tuition,

I posed in the buff,

Went stumping in Cambridge,

I walked a tightrope,

Putting thousands of miles on my pickup so I could come here and give you real hope,

Oh Scott, dear Scott, we love you Scott.

I am the champion, my friends,

With me, we'll take over in ought-10

We are now vital,

My daughter should have won Idol,

No time for losers,

'Cause I'm the new champion -- of this town

Now hold on Scott,

You can drop all that spin,

Because I went rogue, the people awoke, and that led to your win.

A new TV diva, with my smile and my grace,

I rally more people, I write best-selling books, just remember your place.

Scott, she's right, she's so far right.

I am the champion, you're not.

That loss with McCain, they forgot. (Gestures to side sycophants.)

I've got star power, It's my finest hour,

Come Scott, run with me, and we'll be the champions - in 0-12.

They think they're champions, my friends

They'll keep on fighting till the end

They've got star power, their finest hour,

Sarah, I'm with you.

So let's be the champions.

Of the world!

Bad Case of Mid-Term Blues

(Bad Case of Lovin' You/Robert Palmer)

Doctor! Doctor! Spin me some news!

We got a bad case of mid-term blues

Health bill's made the party ill

We got a bad case of mid-term blues!

Iraq! Iran! And Afghanistan!

How many pro-o-blems can one party stand!

Economy stinks; our poll numbers too

Now Evan Bayh our coop has flew

Doctor! Doctor! Spare us the news!

We got a bad case of mid-term blues

New plight: Massa's tickle fights

We got a bad case of mid-term blues!

Virginia, Jersey and Ted's seat too

All went red instead of blue

If the jobless rate we can't adjust

The unemployed will soon be us.

Doctor! Doctor! Gimme the news!

We got a bad case of mid-term blues

Health bill is a bitter pill

We got a bad case of mid-term blues!

FIRST LADY's GARDEN

Michelle Obama's Garden

(Tune: Octopus' Garden/Beatles)

I'd rather be . . . just broc--coli

In Michelle Obama's garden on the lawn

Things aren't so grand . . . in West Wing land

But Michelle Obama's garden's going strong

Her lettuce is so loverl-y-e-e-

Too bad we got none at treasury

I'd rather be a celery

Than the poster boy for saving A-I-G

Skipping two verses and going to the orchestral bridge:

One of the veggies leads others in calisthenics

That's her diet Ooh-ooh

We should try it Ooh-ooh

Ev'n our budget is obese Budget is obese

We pass up leaf Ooh-ooh

Eat hunks of beef Ooh-ooh

Just like this meaty Gridiron feast. Meaty Gridiron feast

We could be so happy and so trim

She'd be there to tell us what to do

I'd like to be her broccoli

In Michelle Obama's garden with you.

Battle Hymn of the Departing Democrats

(Battle Hymn of the Republic)

(Sung by "Tim Kaine")

Mine eyes have seen the terror of the fleeing quitter Dems

They are streaming out the doorways like a bunch of souls condemned

They are fearful Tea Bag marchers gonna tar and feather them

Farewell majority!

Go, goodbye, good riddance to ya!

Burris, Dodd and Evan Ba-yah!

Kaufman, Dorgan, see ya lat-ah!

Farewell majority!

The Blue Dogs they are running from the House Pelosi built

Our plan to hold Dad's Senate seat by Beau Biden was kilt.

Then even Patrick Kennedy -- (waving his hands in exasperation) Oh, why cry o'er milk that's spilt?

Quizzling majority!

Go, goodbye, good riddance to ya!

Burris, Dodd and Evan Ba-yah!

Kaufman, Dorgan, see ya lat-ah!

Traitor majority!

Votes for Sale Song

"King of the Road"

(Lieberman/Nelson)

NELSON

Our votes for sale or rent-

Otherwise . . . we'd dissent

LIEBERMAN

I changed that health care bill

Don't call me (the) insurance shill

NELSON:

Nebraska needed aid

So-o-o, I got free Medicaid

BOTH:

We were Dems with deals, such sweet deals,

Kings of the Hill.

LIEBERMAN:

Even the White House had to hear us whine

Cuz we were numbers 60 and (yep) 59

NELSON:

On ev-ery big issue we had special sway

We stole the spotlight

TOGETHER:

And we got our way.

(pause)

LIEBERMAN:

But now comes this Scotty Brown

NELSON:

Our price has gone way down

BOTH:

We're two Dems with deals -- now no deals

Bums of the Hill

Dems with deals -- now no deals

CAROLINA CREEPS

(Carolina in the Mornin')

(Elizabeth Edwards, Jenny Sanford, and that National Enquirer reporter).

"Elizabeth Edwards":

I am feeling finer, dumped that creep from Carolina . . . this past morning.

"Jenny Sanford":

No one could be dumber than that gov'nor Bible-thumper . . . when he's horny.

Our two-timing sleazebags

Sneakin' out the door

Whispering pretty nothings

To us they're such a bore

Elizabeth:

Naked with his girlie and that smile so pearly, pearly

tape was runnin'.

Giggles in me bubble up, because I think that cuddle up

means money.

I have asked Alladin's lamp if it can help, please

Let's sell the tapes, and keep royalties.

Nothing could be finer than revenge in Carolina

Ev'ry mornin'

Jenny:

What could be more wacky, phantom walk in Appalachee

off his rocker!

Strollin' with his missy, Buenos Aires kissy-kissy

such a shocker.

Both:

We must thank the tabloids

For telling us the truth

Rumors had been flying

Now we have the proof

Reporter:

How bout El'yot Spitz-ah, are they sending my poo-LITZ-ah

in the mornin?

You can't beat it hands down, politicians with their pants down

what a story!

You could see John Edwards grin from ear to ear

'til I found out he was Dad of the Year.

Nothing could be finer than some sex in my headliner

Ev'ry mornin'.

Nothing could be finer, sweet revenge in Carolina

makes our mornin'.

McCaskill song

("Girls Just Wanna Have Fun"/Cyndi Lauper)

(I) grew up in Rolla M-O.

Homecoming queen in red neck sticks where Dems don't grow.

We love our beer

Our flag, our troops and our guns

This girl

She just wants to ru-un

This girl

Is ready to run

I backed Obama early in oh-eight.

So what if we couldn't (quite) win the Show-Me state?

Oh Barack dear

You know you're still No. 1

But (singing to Helen) girl

I just wanna ru-unn

Oh girl just wanna have-

That's all I really wa-a-a-ant

To run

When Obama's term is done

This girl

She just wants to ru-un

This girl

Just wants a big run.

Girl

She wants

Wants the big run

Girl

Want the big --

McCaskill: Michelle, she's a beautiful girl

And Hillary, she's at State; her beat is the world.

Why should they be the ones to have all the fun?

My state

Needs a new Tru-man

My state could use a new-

Misso-ou-reeee

Could use me-e-e-e

When Obama's term is done

This girl

Is going to ru-un

This girl just wants the big run

(continued)

Girl

She Wants

Wants the big run

Girl

Wants the big

Run

Girl

She Wants

Wants the big run

Girl

Wants the big

Run

See the USA with the TSA,

America is standing in a line,

Let the TSA see the USA,

We're looking where the sun don't ever shine,

Just take a trip and our jobs are a treasure.

We can turn up the lights,

And see all your sights,

Bust your civil rights,

For good measure.

So make our day today

And let the TSA,

Go peeking in the USA

Travelin' East, travelin' West

Wherever you go our security's best

Just be sure whenever you fly

There are passengers near you who are big and brave guys.

Don't blame the TSA; it's the CIA

They couldn't spell the Christmas bomber's name

It's not the TSA; it's the CIA

That let that underwear get on the plane

In the airport as you cue up for your screening

Doff your coats and sweater

Your shoes and one better...

We think you know just what we're meaning...

So make a date today for your nude X-Ray

Say thank you to the TSA

So make a date today for your nude X-Ray

Say thank you to the TSA

Foot in Mouth Caucus Song

Tune: What'd I Say?/Ray Charles

BIDEN I am Barack Obama's biggest fan

He is a clean and articulate man

All right

Hey hey

All right

Tell me what'd I say

REID President is never incorrect

Doesn't use a Negro dialect

All right

Hey hey

All right

Tell me what'd I say

BIDEN Harry, everybody mad at us!

REID I don't get it Joey, what's the fuss

BIDEN All right

REID Hey hey

BIDEN All right

BOTH Tell me what'd I say?

BOTH Tell us what'd we say? (CHORUS: Tell us what'd they say?)

Tell us what'd we say? (Tell us what'd they say?)

Yeah!

BIDEN (spoken) Hey is that Republican Chairman Michael Steele?

STEELE Hey (Hey), ho (ho), hey (hey), ho (ho), hey (hey), ho (ho), hey

STEELE Yeah it's Michael Steele (CHORUS: Yeah it's Michael Steele)

REID Is this guy for real? (Is this guy for real?)

BIDEN Chairs the G.O.P.? (Chairs the GOP?)

REID And calls Rush crazy (And calls Rush crazy)

STEELE Hey I belong in this (He wants to be in this)

Foot-in-mouth caucus (Foot-in-mouth caucus)

My party's in misery

Cause of stuff said by little ole me

Won't go

No way.

Uh-uh, I'm here to stay

If you let me come sing this ballad

I'll bring fried chicken and potato salad

Honest Injun

What's wrong?

Hey hey

Tell me what'd I say?

ALL People, what'd we say? (People, what'd they say?)

Tell us, what'd we say? (Tell us, what'd they say?)

"Obamahood of Man"

("Brotherhood of Man," Frank Loesser,

from "How To Succeed in Business Without Really Trying")

Now you may join the G.O.P., and I may join the Donkeys

Some may be N-Double-A-C-P, and others just be honkeys.

Some may wear a Grecian key, or small, gold Gridiron pin,

But the pres'dent says there's one great club, that all of us are in:

In the O-bama-hood . . . of man!

A benevolent 'bama-hood . . . of man,

A Nobel Prize that binds

All human hearts and minds

Into one 'bama-hood of man!

They say the bloom is off . . . the rose

Why you ever even wanted this job . . .God knows!

But though you're in the drink

We know you really think

There's still one 'bama-hood of man!

Now Rahm may seem incompetent, and Gibbs may not make sense.

While Axelrod seems quite a waste of government expense.

They need a brother's leadership, so, please, don't do them in!

Remember, mediocrity is not a mortal sin!

They're (They're)

In (In)

The (The)

'Bama-hood . . . of man!

Dedicated to giving all . . . they can

And they're still proud to be

In that fraternity

In the O-bama-hood, of man!

(Spoken) No kiddin'?

(Sung) Is there really a 'bama-hood . . . ( Yes, you're a brother!)

of man? (You ARE a brother)

On the level, a brother hood . . .

of man (Oh, yes, oh yes!)

A Nobel Prize that binds

All human hearts and minds

Into one -bama-hood of man!

So what your polls go through the floor?

You're the change you've still been waiting for

If you wind up in the breach (You, you got me)

Just make another speech, (Me, I got you-oo, you-oo)

Or a splashy movie, like Al Gore!

Oh, that Nobel feeling

Even when you're reeling,

You are still appealing

Oh, Bama!

You, you got me!

Me, I got you-oo, you-oo!

Oh, that Nobel feeling!

Even when you're reeling,

You are still appealing

Oh, Bama!

You, you got me!

Me, I got you-oo, you-oo!

Oh, that Nobel feeling

Even when you're reeling,

You are still appealing

Oh, Bama!

You, you got me!

Me, I got you-oo, you-oo!

The talking heads can't count you out

Around the world, you've still got clout

We know you'll run again,

And you might even win

With the O-bama-hood of man!

Filed Under: Bill Clinton, Republic of Dish

Tagged: claire mccaskill, ClaireMccaskill, gridiron club, gridiron dinner, GridironClub, GridironDinner, orrin hatch, OrrinHatch

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