Candle lit on a turkish bath
President chokes on a laugh
Floating ashtray sails nearby
With a cuban cigar extinct and saying hi
President stares at his toes in a fan
Farts and the bubbles break loose through his hands
Mingles in the air
With the food he ate and the thoughts he does not share
He is the man
Man with the plan
Talks to his plants talks to the wall
The plants hear voices the wall knows it all
Drips on a persian rug
His siamese cat stays off of drugs
Aircon's a bitch germs passing through
Memories skating on the dew
Of a window the maid leaves open all day
Minibar lock and key seem to say
He is the man
Man with the plan
President dreams of educated clouds
Drifts ans reads Lord Byron out loud
Never rains but bleeds a few words
Soothes the flocks and slaughters the herds
This is our future this is our past
This is the powers iconoclast
Hear him sleep neerby
If he awakes the images are gonna die