The Elegant President: A Poem for Mitt Romney

Mitt Romney - The Elegant President

I was fascinated by Mitt Romney's honest and thoughtful words in the recent video filmed at a $50,000-a-plate dinner for his donors. And I was sad to hear him say yesterday that he thought he could have expressed himself in a more elegant way.

There is nothing more elegant than verse, and so I have taken the liberty of converting Mitt's thoughts into a poem. Feel free to set it to music; perhaps a simple, honest, country tune. (Now that I think about it, the last verse sounds like a chorus to me.) In fact do, what you like with it; I'm giving it as my gift to the world.

I know Mitt would disapprove of my failure to make a profit from this; but really, the glory lies in the thoughts he expressed, not in the way I have reworked them.

-Julian Gough

The Elegant President: A Poem for Mitt Romney

It's hard to be rich, ‘cause then poor people bitch ‘bout

Our houses, our cars, and our cruisers.

When I’m king, I won’t do a thing for the whiners

In diners; I don't work for losers.

I love you because you just paid fifty grand for a plate

I wish there were more of you great guys to love in each state

Don't worry, I won't do a thing for the folk serving dinner

I'll talk like they're not even here, ‘cause I just talk to winners.

No representation without some taxation

That's what the first tea party meant.

I'm the best man that money can buy for this nation;

The poor can't afford presidents.

What we need is an elegant country for elegant folk.

Not fuckups in pickups with hiccups from drinking and dope

Who can't afford healthcare, who can't afford dinners like this

Those people aren't drowning, they're waving their communist fists.

The president’s not there to help forty seven percent.

I don't care if they starve, I don't care if they can't pay their rent

It's their own fault for borrowing money from people like us.

Trying to own cars, when God meant them to travel by bus.

I'll be an elegant president, there for the elegant few.

I'll do what you pay me to do, because I'm one of you.

If Jesus had just paid some taxes, I'd represent him

But he didn't, so fuck him, the loser can learn how to swim.