In the Ghetto (The Vicious Coleman)

As the snow flies
On a cold and gray Twin Cities morn'
A little Nick Coleman column is born
‘Bout the ghetto
And his readers cry
'cause if there's one thing that they don't need
It's a hack journalist with an angry screed
‘Bout the ghetto
People, don't you understand
Nick Coleman is a deranged man
He grew to be an angry old man today
He preaches at you and me,
Our taxes are too low, see,
Or will we have to read again ’bout marriage between gays?
Well the world turns
and a nasty journalist with a poison pen
Blames a House Republican
For the ghetto
And his ego grows to massive heights
As he chastises the religious right
‘Bout the ghetto
Then one night in desperation an old man goes insane
He writes a column, attacks PowerLine,
Then gets in a scrape with National Review Online,
Bout his (step) mama’s ties
As circulation drops the angry old man
Writes ‘bankers in paneled offices’ don’t give a damn
‘Bout the ghetto
And as the Strib dies,
on a cold and gray Twin Cities morn',
another crappy Nick Coleman column is born
‘Bout the ghetto