Well, I need a lot of OJ
I'm afraid I gotta say
Freshly squeezed from my TV set
Every single day
Marcia Clark and Johnny Cochran
They provide vitamin C
I love Lance, Christopher Darden
And that crusty old F. Lee

If I lived in California
Or some other Western state
Then I could get it in the morning
And I wouldn't have to wait
For my fix of OJ
It's just like a shot of dope
With all it's aspects of Greek tragedy
It's better than a soap

Oh, and the white folks, black folks, brown folks at the bar and on the stand
Oh, in the matching glasses there's the bearded yellow man
There's blood and mud and tears and gloves and coverage never stops
Experts, next door neighbors, sex and drugs and dogs and cops

Marcia's marriage broken, Johnny beat up his ex-wife
Tell me, with this cast of characters who needs to get a life?
I'll bet Bailey and Shapiro they still hate each others guts
The dream team needs Colin Ferguson—somebody really nuts
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