Guv’ment John Goodman

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[Pap]
Well, you dad-gum government, you sorry so 'n' so's
You got your damn hands in every pocket of my clothes
Well you dad-gum, dad-gum, dad-gum government
Whoa don't you know, whoa don't you love 'em sometimes?

You dad-gum government, you better pay attention
You're sittin' up there like a fool's convention
Well you dad-gum, dit, dit, dad-gum government
Whoa don't you know, whoa don't you love 'em sometimes?

[Pap (spoken)]
Well you soul sellin' no-good sons of a dead pant-shoe-fittin' fire starters! I oughta tear your no good, god dang perambulatory bone frame and nail it to your government walls! All of ya, ya bastards!

Dad-gum!
Government, you sorry rackafratchits
You got yourself an itch and you want me to scratch it
Well you dad-gum, yeah you dad-gum
You dad-gum

You dad-gum government, you sorry sons of bitches
You got your damn hands in every pocket of my britches
Well you dad-gum, dad-gum, dad-gum government, woo!
Whoa don't you know, whoa don't you love 'em sometimes?

Whoa whoa whoa whoa, whoa whoa ah
Government