Commentary

© Copyright 2021 Peter Lloyd

I was feelin bout as groomed as Genghis Kahn
When I came across a place called Saul’s Salon
I walked in and said, “I need a haircut, Saul”
He said, “Sit on down, neighbor, and I’ll cut em all!”

He tossed a sheet across me and said, “I’m Bob
“It can get a little hairy, but I love my job”
“I believe you, Bob, but as I recall
“The sign on your window says your name is Saul”

“Well, what is truth,” Bob philosophized
“Is there really any difference tween truth and lies?
“Can you prove that E equals M C squared?
“When the Rapture comes will you be prepared?”

“The thing about it is, Bob, facts are facts
“And what you believe determines how you act”
I said, “There’s only one reality”
That’s when Bob interrupted me

“Everybody’s got their own reality
“I got mine and it’s right for me
“Does it really matter if I’m Bob or Saul
“Long as I answer when you call?”

Lie lie lie lie, lie dee lie
Oh, so sad to see truth die
They twistin it, bendin it, fixin to be endin it
Come on, people, time to start defendin it

I saw no use confronting Bob’s insanity
So I decided to ignore him and watch TV
Looked up on the wall and there on the screen
Was the spookiest creature I’ve ever seen

Her eyes were blazing, what she said, absurd
Though the sound was down, I could read every word
The more I read, the more I realized
What got into Bob was a shitload of lies

I said to Bob “I think I know what’s up with you?
“You been watching too damn much Fox News
“It’s no good for your brain, it’ll sicken your soul
“In the middle of your heart, leave a gaping hole

“Well,” Bob replied, “I got news for you
“Covid’s a hoax and global warming too
“The election was stolen, nine-eleven was staged
“The Clinton’s eat babies, but no babies were caged

“Obama’s from Kenya, and masks don’t work
“Sleepy Joe Biden is a socialist jerk
“The earth is flat and the moon is too
“I know cuz I watch — Fox News”

Lie lie lie lie, lie dee lie
Oh, so sad to see truth die
They twistin it, bendin it, fixin to be endin it
Come on, people, time to start defendin it

Bob’s not a fool, he’s just misinformed 
Like in Orwell’s story, nineteen-eighty-four
Took a little longer but it’s coming true 
And the people behind it — Fox News

No respect for the truth, don’t even know what it means 
Nothing but a clusterfuck of lying machines
First they lie, then you catch em, then they start denyin
If their lips are moving, you know they’re lyin

Lie lie lie lie, lie dee lie
Oh, so sad to see truth die
They twistin it, bendin it, fixin to be endin it
Come on, people, time to start defendin it

Even if you don’t believe the Earth is round
I think we can still find common ground 
Cuz there’s one thing we can never deny
If we hear it on Fox, it’s a goddamn lie

Lie lie lie lie, lie dee lie
Oh, so sad to see truth die
They twistin it, bendin it, fixin to be endin it
Come on, people, time to start defendin it
Come on, people, time to start defendin the truth

Fox News Blues

© Copyright 2020 Peter Lloyd

I’m so damned depressed. I’m white and I’m oppressed
Can’t say what’s on my mind. Last time I did, hell, I got fined
Can’t lead a prayer at school, can’t burn no fossil fuel
Can’t smoke in public places, can’t mock folks to their faces
What's the Constitution for? Who threw freedom out the door?
Can’t use the n-word anymore

 We used to be so great, when we were free to fight and hate
Now what’s the point of life, you can’t even smack your wife?
Just try and quote the Bible, you get sued for slander and libel
Soon they’ll come and take your gun, spoil all your fun
What's the Constitution for? Who threw freedom out the door?
Can’t use the n-word anymore

You can call me whitey, ofay, cracker, honkie, gringo, hick
Redneck, hillbilly, peckerwood... Just don’t call me racist
So why the hell can’t I use faggot, dago, coon, raghead, sissy, spick, pouf, heeb, limey, nancy, mackerel snapper, fairy, frog, wetback, fruit, wop, homo, mick, kike, beaner, dike?
Did I miss any?

If only I could be as brave as great grandpa, he owned slaves
But those days are long forgotten. Now he’d have to pick his own damn cotton
They had a colored maid, used to call a spade a spade
Used to call a queer a fruit, now it’s L-G-B-T-Q
What's the Constitution for? Who threw freedom out the door?
Can’t use the n-word anymore

Can’t use the n-word anymore
But I can sure as hell try
Who wants to hear me?
N- n- n- ni- ni- ni-
Fuck it!

White Man's Lament

© Copyright 2019 Peter Lloyd
Music and original lyrics by Jay Livingston and Ray Evans

When it comes time to tell a lie
I ask the devil, “Who should I see?”
“Should I ask Satan, Gorgo, or Baal?”
Here’s what he says to me

Call Sarah, Sarah
Trumps favorite fork-tongued shill
Her lies give her such a thrill
Call Sarah, Sarah

When I need brazen, boldface lies
I ask the devil, “Who should it be?”
“Shall I call Cheney, Nixon, or Bush?”
Here’s what he says to me

Call Sarah, Sarah
Trumps favorite fork-tongued shill
She lies like a whale eats krill
Call Sarah, Sarah

When you feel forced to tell a lie
Just ask the devil, “What should I do?”
“Shall I call Judas, Barnum or Cain?”
Here’s what he’ll say to you 

Call Sarah, Sarah
Trumps favorite fork-tongued shill
Spreads lies like an oil spill
Call Sarah, Sarah

Call Sarah Sarah

© Copyright 2020 Peter Lloyd, Jerry Leiber, Mike Stoller

Fee-fee, fie-fie, foe-foe, fum
How can one man be so goddamn dumb?

Donald Trump, Donald Trump
What a chump, That Donald Trump
He's gonna get dumped, just you wait and see

"Why's everybody always pickin on me?"

He opens that pie hole right below his nose
Out come lies like a frickin firehose 

Donald Trump, Donald Trump
What a chump, That Donald Trump
He's gonna get dumped, just you wait and see

"Why's everybody always pickin on me?"

Who's driving us right up a wall?
Who doesn't have a pair of balls?
Who's headed for a nasty fall?

Guess who

"Who me?"

Yes, you!

The world's dumbest man and the US president
In a perfect world, would be two different men

Donald Trump, Donald Trump
What a chump, That Donald Trump
He's gonna get dumped, just you wait and see

"Why's everybody always pickin on me?"

The world's dumbest man and the US president
In a perfect world, would be two different men

Donald Trump, Donald Trump
What a chump, That Donald Trump
He's gonna get dumped, just you wait and see

"Why's everybody always pickin on me?"

Donald Chump

© Copyright 2021 Peter Lloyd

Three days after nine-eleven 
At the National Cathedral
Congress came to pay respects
To the lives we lost to evil

California’s Barbara Lee 
Joined the mournful wake
And in respectful witness
Our leaders bowed and prayed

The time would come when those who prayed
Would meet to ponder war
So the preacher urged we not repeat
The evil we deplore 

When the House met to deliberate
They huffed and puffed and roared
But Lee warned, “No, let’s not become
The evil we deplore”

Four-hundred-twenty voted yes
Four-hundred-twenty ayes
One lone hero voted no
wise demise lies dies flies 

Four-hundred-twenty to one!
Four-hundred-twenty to one!
Was Lee the only one who listened?
Was she the only one who heard?
The simple prayer, “Let’s not become
The evil we deplore 

Twenty years of hate and waste
Twenty years of war
Despite Lee’s warnings, we became
The evil we deplore

Four-hundred-twenty to one!
Four-hundred-twenty to one!
Was Lee the only one who listened?
Was she the only one who heard?
The simple prayer, “Let’s not become
The evil we deplo

We need more than one to stand
Not just Lee but many more
We need more to unbecome 
The evil we deplore

Four-hundred-twenty to one!
Four-hundred-twenty to one!
Was Lee the only one who listened?
Was she the only one who heard?
The simple prayer, “Let’s not become
The evil we deplore"

The Evil We Deplore

Words © Copyright 2003, 2015 John Robbins and Peter Lloyd. Melody is traditional

When you fail to find Osama, bomb Iraq 
When the market's in a trauma, bomb Iraq 
When the “tersts" are gettin' frisky
North Korea's lookin' risky
When you fail to find Osama, bomb Iraq

When you think somebody's dissed you, bomb Iraq 
When you got no allies with you, bomb Iraq
Aw, forget the damn inspection
Look ahead to next election
When you think somebody's dissed you, bomb Iraq

Wanna make a big impression? Bomb Iraq 
It's pre-emptive, it's aggression, bomb Iraq 
They got weapons we can't see
And that's all the proof we need
Wanna make a big impression? Bomb Iraq

When you feel a bit dejected, bomb Iraq
What the heck, you weren't elected, bomb Iraq 
We all know Saddam's gone mad
Cuz he tried to kill your dad
When you feel a bit dejected, bomb Iraq

When your cronies' greed is growin', bomb Iraq 
And your ties to them are showin', bomb Iraq 
When your cabinet's so sleazy
That they're making folks uneasy
When your cronies' greed is growin', bomb Iraq

Even though we have no reason, bomb Iraq 
Disagree? It must be treason, bomb Iraq 
Fall in line and follow orders
And to hell with sovereign borders
Even though we have no reason, bomb Iraq 
We don't need no reason, bomb Iraq
We're America, for Chrissake, bomb Iraq

When you w[ant to be a hero, but your IQ's seven-zero 
Don't even try to reason, bomb Iraq

Bomb Iraq!

Parody of "Yellow Bird" © Copyright 2018 Peter Lloyd
Peter Lloyd and Alan Bergman, Marilyn Bergman, Michel Mauleart Monton, Oswald Durand

Yellow Hair, you look like banana slug
Yellow Hair, you lie like the bad-ﬁt rug

When you open mouth, nothing true come out 
Every word you say, sound like donkey bray
Many lie you tell, make the devil yell 
"You behave just like me"
You tell more lie than Tricky Dick
You have brain like the ﬂea
You more corrupt than Tricky Dick
And dumber than, Dubya forty-three

Yellow Hair, you look like banana slug
Yellow Hair, you lie like the bad-ﬁt rug

Hang the tie too long, spell the word all wrong
Make the business fail, drive the cofﬁn nail
Wave you tiny hand like the girlie man
Comb you hair like the clown
You do what Putin tell you to
Like the little baboon
You want to rule like Putin do
But you appear, more like Kim Jong-un

Yellow Hair, Yellow Hair

Yellow Hair

Words and music © Copyright 1970, 2015 Peter Lloyd

This song has been around since 1970. I still wonder how such an inexperienced young man managed to write it? I do recall that it owes its central image to Rudolf Dirk's Mama Katzenjammer.
Pardon my French.

Well, she gets me up in the morning and she hits me upside the head 
Tears the covers off me and jerks me out of bed
Stirs my coffee with an old fingernail file
And she wonders why I don’t wake up with a smile
She says, How come you never wake up with a smile?

Hard-hearted, mule-headed, tight-fisted, bitter-lipped
Foot-stomping, door-slamming, 
Rolling pin woman, you’re bringing me down

I met her on the subway and I offered her my seat
She was about the prettiest woman I had ever hoped to meet 
She said, “Come on up to my room and we’ll have a cup of wine.”
It was then I laid my future on the line
From then on, it was no longer mine 

For she spun a spider web and she tied the knot tight
I was seduced and reduced before I had a chance to fight 
I didn’t run, I admit, but if I ever live twice
I’m gonna keep them pretty women out of my sight
If I see one, I’m gonna poke out my eyes

Hard-hearted, mule-headed, tight-fisted, bitter-lipped
Foot-stomping, door-slamming, 
Rolling pin woman, you’re bringing me down

Oh, I’d leave her if I could, but I can’t, so I won’t
I’ve tried so many times and it hurts so much, I don’t
She’s got me hung up on her like the clothes out on the line 
And then they tell me love is the might tie that binds
Sure, just like a noose in due time

Hard-hearted, mule-headed, tight-fisted, bitter-lipped
Foot-stomping, door-slamming, 
Rolling pin woman, you’re bringing me down

Now all you single men, you best take my advice
If you think you’re in love,  think twice
If your woman’s kind of plain, you might give her a chance 
But if she’s one of them beautiful women, you’re not gonna last 
Them gorgeous gals, they run you down much too fast
I’m warning you, she’ll turn into a

Hard-hearted, mule-headed, tight-fisted, bitter-lipped
Foot-stomping, door-slamming, 
Rolling pin woman, you’re bringing me down

See http://peterlloyd.com/music/cds/infah/index.shtml for all I'm Not From Around Here credits.

Rollin Pin Woman

Words and music © Copyright 1973, 2001, 2015 Peter Lloyd

Love is stupid, but I fell in love anyway
You can kick me in the head, throw me out the window 
I’m a fool. I came to you for love

Love is dumb, like swinging your hammer and hitting your thumb 
You can take me to the judge, let him hit me with the book
I’m a fool. I came to you for love

Love is like walking out in the rain and getting snowed on 
It’s like laying down in front of a train and getting rolled over 
Love is like putting your hand in the fire
You always get burned. How come you never learn?

I was singing along with the Gillette commercial
When my daddy lifted me up on his knee one night 
Between rounds of the Rocky Marciano-Sugar Ray Robinson championship fight
                    
He said, “Son, some day you’re gonna be a man, just like Rocky and Sugar Ray.
And I want you to be ready when you walk out that door to put up your dukes and make your own way.
                    
"I don't care if you go in for boxing, football, baseball, or even hockey.
One of these days you're gonna be in the ring just like Sugar Ray and Rocky.
                    
"Because no matter how you look at it—life is a fight.
Just like on the TV, except it won’t exactly be black and white. 
You see, even when you know you're right, and no matter how good and hard you fight,
Somebody's gonna call you bum, lightweight, even powder puff..." 
That’s when my mom butt in, “Okay, Ed. That’s enough.”
                
But my dad just went on and on and on and on 
I tuned back in when he was saying something about a punch in the nose
Keeping your guard up, look for an opening. Fake, bob and weave, Hit ‘em with a combination
 
And then, I remember him saying, "I just want you to work hard at whatever you do,
No matter what it is you decide to do.
You can be a goalie or the heavyweight champion of the world, you know I’ll be proud of you.
                    
"Just don’t get discouraged when you make mistakes
Because we all get knocked down now and then
The only time you have to worry is if you make a mistake
And then go back out and make the same mistake again and again..."

Love, take my advice. It’s like coming up once after going down twice 
You can take my fool head and smash it in the vice
I’m a fool. I came to you for love 

And all I got what a kick in the head, a knife in the back
and a broken heart love is dumb

Love Is Stupid

© Copyright 2023 Peter Lloyd, Image by LORRAINE DAY 

remember ex-prez donald j trump
took us all for a nation of chumps
stole top secret docs and done got caught
he tried hard to deny it 
the jury did not buy it
they showed him that he’s not above the law

he’s in the jailhouse now
he’s in the jailhouse now
it comes as no surprise 
he’s outa luck and alibis
he’s in the jailhouse now

back when trump was commander in chief 
he made his goons give us all kinda grief 
we’re lucky they were all so goddamn dumb
under trump's direction 
they failed at insurrection 
we shoulda hung them all up by their thumbs


they’re in the jailhouse now
they’re in the jailhouse now
it comes as no surprise 
they’re outa luck and alibis
they’re in the jailhouse now


ya drank the kool aid and followed a fool
he made ya look like pitiful tools
you turned around and came right back for more
whatever you were drinking
whatever you were thinking
ya got exactly what you bargained for


you’re in the jailhouse now
you’re in the jailhouse now
it comes as no surprise 
you’re outa luck and alibis
you’re in the jailhouse now

Jailhouse Dreams

Thunder at my door—it was old Tom Paine
Seeking relief from the wind and rain
I let him in and he commenced
To speak like the man of Common Sense    

Tom said:
“Hard rain’s a blowin, the crisis nigh
“The cost to your freedom—heavy and high
“Gather your forces, rally the brave
“You’ve got yourselves a nation to save”

So I say:
America needs a new Tom Paine
America needs a new Tom Paine

Tom said:
“In my time and, still, today
“The fainthearted favor the easy way
“Ease makes them feel godly and brave
“But each—no more than the tyrant’s slave

“Promise such traitors whatever they seek
“They’ll ravage the rights of the poor and the weak
“It happened before, it’s happening now
“It’s all up to you, now, what you will allow”
 
So I say:
America needs a new Tom Paine
America needs a new Tom Paine   

Tom said:
“Tyranny, citizen, not easily beat
“But just like hell, it must know defeat
“Summer soldiers will give no aid
“While sunshine patriots seek the shade
“So you must stand, be damned the cost 
“Or find your hard-won freedom lost”	

America needs a new Tom Paine
America needs a new Tom Paine
America needs a new Tom Paine

© Copyright 2024 Peter Lloyd
Music by Suno.com AI

A New Tom Paine

you oughta meet some friends of mine
They're just like you and me
they work hard 
and at night they watch TV

They go to church on Sunday
And read their holy book
If you haven't read it 
You oughta have a look
 
it say do, they say talk   
it say share, they say walk
it say give, then they take
it say build, then they break
Those mixed up Christian friends of mine

I wonder what they mean when they said "blessed are the meek" 
I wonder who they mean when they said "turn the other cheek"

This world's so much confusion
with its trouble and its pain
some search for truth eternal 
I hope it's not in vain

some cling to holy scripture
swear every word is true
they read it and they quote it
but this is what they do
 
they say do, then they just talk   
they say share, then they just walk
they say give, then they take
they say build, and then they break
Those mixed up Christian friends of mine

I wonder who they mean when they said "feed the poor" 
I wonder what they mean when they said "open up your door”

Some folks don’t, just read that book
They put it to the test 
Matthew Mark Luke and John
Paul and all the rest

One man in my lifetime
a King with skin of brown
He talked it and he walked it
But a Christian gunned him down

they say come, then they go
they say love, then they say no
they say less, but they mean more
they say peace, then they make war
Those mixed up Christian friends of mine
Those mixed up Christian friends of mine

© Copyright 2006, 2025 Peter Lloyd
Music by suno.com AI

Mixed-up Christians

Dropped on this planet without our consent
We've been charged to perform at our best
But as I look around us, I'm inclined to resent
That the folks who ain't trying seem blessed

It ain't fair, it's not right that cheaters succeed
While we work hard for all that we're worth
Giving more than we take as we cry and we bleed
And imposters inherit the Earth

The emptiest barrel makes the most noise 
The hollowest head sounds the loudest
The boisterous baby takes home the most toys
And the purplest peacock seems proudest

But we must keep our heads as the rest our kind
Lose their minds and blame me and you
Gotta trust in their value and not leave them behind
When that's just what we wish we could do

We must field all their lies and not fall back on lies 
Let them hate us without giving back hate
Share what wisdom we glean without acting too wise
Do what's right without thinking we're great

The emptiest barrel makes the most noise 
The hollowest head sounds the loudest
The boisterous baby takes home the most toys
And the purplest peacock seems proudest

So let's dream without letting our dreams take control
Bend our rules without letting them break
Turn to reason and right without losing our soul
And do good for goodness sake

Let's be good for goodness sake

© Copyright 2025 Peter Lloyd
Music by suno.com AI

The Emptiest Barrel

A blues track with a grooving story-telling vibe. This song is about an executed murderer driven by the bad example of his brutal father. Sung from the point of view of his executioner.

Credits: Written & Produced by: Peter Lloyd

Connect with Peter Lloyd at music@peterlloyd.com
#ballad of bobby lee #singer-songwriter #NewMusic #PeterLloyd

Lyrics:
Bobby Lee was born in the South
Big, blue eyes and a pretty, little mouth
Loved to run up side the hill
Run back down and take a spill
Bobby’s mama was tall and thin
Raven-black hair and milk-white skin
Loved to sing while Bobby played
Wore a bracelet Bobby made

Bobby Lee, oh, Bobby Lee
Won’t you please have mercy on me

Bobby's house was small and square
Miles from just about everywhere
Windows shined like polished chrome
Least until his pa came home
Rolled in slow like a thundercloud
Dark and fierce, full and proud
Kept t' himself till you got him riled
Then he'd crack like lightning, quick and wild

When Pa was home not much was heard
Mama got quiet as a frightened bird
Pa'd bump Bobby from his Mama's bed
So he listened up when Papa said
"When you grow up, boy, you'll understand
A man's gotta keep the upper hand
A woman's mouth's like an open cut
Gets real nasty 'less you keep it shut."

Mama came home too late one night
Slipped in quiet, Pa hit the light
Grabbed her arm, took her to the floor
Broke the bracelet she always wore
Bobby's eyes could not erase
His papa's fist on his mama's face
The bloody flame on her milk-white cheek
The price you pay for being meek

Gravel flew when Pa hit the gas
A stone cut through the fragile glass
Night wind whistled through hole it made
Such a mournful tune it played
Mama held him close and tight
Warmed his body all through the night
Blood and tears, warm and wet
Bitter comfort he could not forget

When Bobby left his mama's home
He bragged about how far he'd roam
But he got a job in a music store
Stocked the shelves and swept the floor
Met a girl looking for a song
They were making love before too long
It was working out the way he planned
And it sure felt like the upper hand

One night he opened his girlfriend's door
Found naked lovers on the kitchen floor
Somebody screamed, the man attacked
Something inside Bobby cracked
His blood had never burned so hot
He killed her lover on the spot
Plain to see somebody lied
Something inside Bobby died

(repeat refrain)

Shamed and shaken, hurt and scared
His woman cursed the dreams they shared
He tried to hide from the thundercloud
But her words were wicked, cruel, and loud
When she refused his crude embrace
His fists rained down on her tear-stained face
One blow killed, don't know which
Carried her out to a shallow ditch

(repeat refrain)

Brittle comfort, the warmest yet
Lying with her, cold and wet
Blood and tears, close and tight
Barking dogs, blinding light
Bobby proud on the witness stand
"A man's gotta keep the upper hand."
Guilty verdict, eye for eye
Bobby Lee condemned to die

Bobby's cell was small and square
A long, long way from anywhere
Cold and dark like an open tomb
But his mama's songs fought the awful gloom
His last day came, his last day went
All his legal options spent
TV cameras, a spark of fame
Call from the governor never came

We strapped him down to that deadly chair
Said he liked it, small and square
"I just might stay here till I'm dead."
At least that's what I thought he said
Lightning cracked through Bobby's bones
Reporters grabbed their mobile phones
Headline spun the words he spoke
"Killer's Final Words a Joke"

Our job don't take a lot of skill
Never did and it never will
Wait for the light, throw the switch
One of us kills but we don't know which
Bobby's grave is small and square
Don't know who can tell you where
Nothing gained, nothing learned
Another mama's baby burned

Bobby Lee, oh, Bobby Lee
Won’t you please have mercy on me

© Copyright 2025 Peter Lloyd

Ballad of Bobby Lee

No sun shines bright on Breonna Taylor’s home
There sorrow and darkness remain
In empty rooms where the fatal shots have flown
The echoes of death will always reign

Our heads must bow for how far we fall behind
True justice without and within
When bullets fly, it’s the darker skin they find
No matter how slight or small the sin

Weep no more, good people
Oh, spare your thoughts and pra yers
Rather sing one song for Breonna Taylor’s home
And the shameful stain that lingers there
How many times will we pause at end of day
And wonder how long we must roam
Until we lay down that fair and level way
We take to our bright and better home
Weep no more, good people
Oh, spare your thoughts and prayers
Rather sing one song for Breonna Taylor’s home
And the shameful stain that lingers there 

Let us sing one song for Breonna Taylor’s home
And the shameful stain that lingers there

(c) Copyright 2025 Peter Lloyd
music by suno AI

Breonna Taylor’s Home

© Copyright 2015 Harry Warren, Jack Brooks, and Peter Lloyd

In USA where right is wrong
And left is right, we sing this song

When you hear someone say that more guns make us safe
That’s a moron (That’s a moron)
When you hear someone call for a long border wall
That’s a moron  (That’s a moron)

When you hear empty headed fear, empty headed fear
Yes, it just might annoy ya
But you know little do they know, little do they know
And it’s just paranoia

When you hear someone say it’s a choice to be gay
That’s a moron  (That’s a moron)
And when someone attacks every tax with an axe, he’s a scrooge
When you hear someone spit in a spiritual fit, “There’s  a war on!”
I’m afraid that we say here in old USA, that’s a moron

When you hear someone claim that there’s no climate change
That’s a crazy (That’s a crazy)
When you hear from a dude who poo-poos Evolution
That’s a crazy (That’s a crazy)

When you hear empty headed fear, empty headed fear
Yes, it just might annoy ya
But you know little do they know, little do they know
And it’s just paranoia

When you hear someone say all was made in six days
That’s a crazy (That’s a crazy)
When a man wrapped in perks tells you trickle down works, it’s a con
And when somebody claims, “It’s the needy we blame, cuz they’re lazy”
I’m afraid that we say here in old USA, that’s a crazy

That's a Moron

© Copyright 2016 Cynthia Weil, Barry Mann, and Peter Lloyd}

When your president holds you in a trance
With his toilet tongue and his flaming pants
As he helps himself while he steals from you
Then it must be time to pin the rap on you know who

(Blame it on Barack Obama) Cuz his skin is brown
(Blame it on Barack Obama) And that brings you down
Lately there is just too damn much change
And the middle class stays out of range
(Blame it on Barack Obama) It’s all his fault

Could it be the war? (No, no, Barack Obama)
Or economy? (No, no, Barack Obama)
It’s it cuz you’re poor? (Yeah, yeah, Barack Obama)
It’s all his fault

When you can’t make out where the hell he stands
With his yellow hair and his tiny hands
Simply get in line like a loyal goon
And join his minions in their idiotic tune

(Blame it on Barack Obama) Cuz his skin is brown
(Blame it on Barack Obama) And that brings you down
Lately there is just too damn much change
And the middle class stays out of range
(Blame it on Barack Obama) It’s all his fault

Could it be the war? (No, no, Barack Obama)
Or economy? (No, no, Barack Obama)
It’s it cuz you’re poor? (Yeah, yeah, Barack Obama)
It’s all his fault

Blame It on Barak Obama (President Trump)

Words, music, and performance © Copyright 2017 Peter Lloyd

This song is brought to you by Amerikoch
And now a word from our sponsor

Everything we own must go
So now’s the time for saving
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Your every need and craving

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I’ve been told
The roads of Hell are lined with gold
The rats dress up in pinstripe suits
And tom cats prowl in combat boots

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Tell me why
When camels spy the needle’s eye
They turn away, begin to cry
And start to sing a sad goodbye

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Welcome to Amerikoch

© Copyright 2017 Peter Lloyd

If my president declares it, then it’s true
If my president declares it, then it’s true
Yes, I take him at his word. Even when he sounds absurd
If my president declares it, then it’s true

If my president believes it, so do I
If my president believes it, so do I
You can call my brain a dumpster. I don’t mind, cuz I’m a Trumpster
If my president believes it, so do I

If my president is for it, so am I
If my president is for it, so am I
We don’t care who disadvises. Cuz we welcome freak surprises
If my president is for it, so am I

If my president says do it, then I will
If my president says do it, then I will
We don’t care who might attack. We know Putin’s got our back 
If my president says do it, then I will

If my president says mock ‘em, then I will
If my president says mock ‘em, then will
All you retards, gimps, and fags, fuck your rainbow-colored flag
If my president says mock ‘em, then I will

If my president says grab it, then I will
If my president says grab it, then I will 
I’ll just walk right up and grab it. Even if she wears a habit
If my president says grab it, then I will 

He will always be my hero, though his IQ’s seven-zero
If my president is for it, so am I

Follow The Leader

© Copyright 2017 Peter Lloyd

Jesus stood up, and he swore on the Bible
Pressing his case of slander and libel
He say, Judge, people be using my name in vain
Selling my word for personal gain
Now I didn’t come all this way to lay blame
I just want em to stop using my name

Cuz I said:
Love your neighbor, Turn your other cheek
Feed the hungry, Stand up for the weak 

How the hell did they get it so wrong? 
They pick on the weak and call themselves strong
Build a damn wall and lock up their doors
They fatten the rich, and they steal from poor
Even though I think it’s a God damn shame
Let em do what they like, but don’t use my name

Cuz I said:
Love your neighbor, Turn your other cheek
Clothe the naked, Stand up for the meek 

If folks would just read what I said in my prime
Maybe they could get it right this time
I said what I meant, and I meant what I said
I didn’t spout whatever went through my head
But if they don’t want to follow my aim
Fine. Just make em use some other name

Cuz I said:
Love your neighbor, Turn your other cheek
House the homeless, Stand up for the weak 

Well, Jesus stepped down and rested his case
Bowed his head and covered his face
My heart stood still as he faded from sight
Then the judge stood up as the room filled with light
His gavel came down with a deafening bang
The jury rose, raised their arms, and sang

 Love your neighbor, Turn your other cheek
 Feed the hungry, Stand up for the meek

 Love your neighbor, Turn your other cheek
 Feed the hungry, Stand up for the weak

Jesus on the Stand (Love Your Neighbor)

Songwriter since 1966. Can't believe I still have to write protest songs. Prefer writing love songs and songs of praise for stand-up women and men, parodies, lyrical nonsense, blues and adaptations.