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In a long and lonesome caucus, on the CNN You can log on to the Internet and try to IM again You can think about the intern, or the page you knew before, But your hands will soon be wandering, the way they always do. When you’re riding sixteen year olds with nothing much to do And you don’t feel much like drinking, you just hope the vote goes through. So, here I am, on the floor again. There I am, up on the stage. Here I go, playing R again. There I go, IM the page. Well you walk into the House, strung out from the booze, You can feel the eyes upon you; you know you have to quit You pretend it didn’t happen, but you’re just a hypocrite Most times it’s Clinton’s fault, other times it’s gays. The same old cliché that FOX News runs today Democrats seem outnumbered, they don’t dare make a stand. Here I am, on the floor again. There I am, up on the stage. Here I go, playing R again. There I go, IM the page. Out here in the sunlight my façade just melts away, Every new excuse, you try and get away, As the sweat pours out your body like the speaker of the House. Later in the evening as you get completely soused, With the emails to the teenagers running through your head, You blame your childhood trauma, but your career is surely dead Now here I am, on the floor again. There I am, up on the stage. Here I go, playing R again. There I go, IM the page. Here I am, on the floor again. There I am, up on the stage. Ah here I go, playing R again. There I go, there I go.
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