Poor Ol' Broken Hearted Me

ODE TO CRICKET  (RIP Kristi Noem's dog)

My heart is shot My liver is fried
I can only see Out of one eye
My blood pressure’s high My belly is huge
Everything aches I barely can move

(Chorus)
At least I’m not Kristi Noem’s dog
At least I’m not Kristi Noem’s dog
I can’t point a bird
I can’t bring in the herd
Thank God I ain’t Kristi Noem’s dog

My prostate’s the size of a basketball
I can barely go pee at all
My best days are over my talent is spent
Perhaps I should run for President
(Chorus) 

(Bridge)
That merciless rebel truly believes
Shooting a puppy is a sure way to please
The radical masses that will get out and vote
For a gun toting mama that likes to kill goats
(Instrumental)
 
I grew up on a farm I had hunting dogs
Some of them would not hunt at all
Some were frustrating to live with and yet
We didn’t shoot them we just called them pets.

At least they weren’t Kristi Noem’s dogs
At least they weren’t Kristi Noem’s dogs
They wouldn’t point a bird
They couldn’t bring in the herd
Thank God they weren’t  Kristi Noem’s dogs

In a pit they’d lie dead
Being shot it the head
If they were Kristi Noem’s dogs

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