Oh, ConeyGirl: A Supreme Courting Song

 

 Protestor
with Bomb

    (The verses below are to be sung -- indeed they must be sung for 

best effect -- to the tune of a 1909 popular song, "My Pony Boy.")

ConeyGirl. 

ConeyGirl.

Drumpf adores you, don' he, girl!

Take some heat,

then a seat on our highest court.

Plan, in sum...?

Just keep mum: you'll be soon confirm'd. 

Antonin-Clarence kin! (Bader Gin-...? No-o-o-o!)

Oh, ConeyGirl!

ConeyGirl.

ConeyGirl.

Now you're Mitch's crony, girl.

Precedents...? 

Founders' bents trump 'em -- so you say.

Wade v Roe...? 

Gotta go, as does ACA.

Lexual. Textual. (Sexual...? Who-o-oa!)

Oh, ConeyGirl.

ConeyGirl.

ConeyGirl.

Dems feel you're a phony, girl.

Immigrants

stand no chance. Long gun bearers thrive.

Peopl'of Praise

damn the gays. Where do you come down...?

COVID flays. World malaise. (End of Days...? Doh!!)

Oh, ConeyGirl.