The sun shines bright; Mitch says he is stepping down;
Should liberals be happy and gay?
He’ll run no more but retire to his hometown,
There to sip good bourbon every day.
McConnell fell, cracking his head on the floor.
So, sometimes he does not seem bright.
We have seen Mitch freeze when addressing the press corps;
Is that why Mitch just said, “Good night?’

No one here is weeping at news we heard today.
Mitch will soon head back to his old Kentucky home,
To his old Kentucky home, far away.

The Supreme Court’s stacked and it sings McConnell’s tunes.
Mitch made them right wing to the core.
Our women’s rights now swim in Red States’ spittoons
Or sometimes, they’re just spit on the floor.
Low blood flow to McConnell’s brain and heart,
Might have said to Mitch, “Time to go.”
Obstruction has always been the major part,
Of what Mitch McConnell does, we know.

Feel free to weep, you ladies; the courts Mitch stacked remain.
Although Mitch heads back to his old Kentucky home,
The courts will all still bear McConnell’s stain.

Once Mitch moves on, then the Senate GOP
Will fight over who next will lead.
So, who will win? We’ll just have to wait and see
Who gets enough votes to succeed.
Mitch hated Trump but was loyal to the Don,
Obstructing black folks’ right to vote.
If Trump wins again, democracy is gone,
And our Ship of State will not stay afloat.

Weep some more my ladies, though Mitch will leave some day.
We will sing one song for our own beloved home,
And democracy, as it fades away.

May be sung to ‘My Old Kentucky Home’ – “My Old Kentucky Home, Good-Night!” is a sentimental ballad written by Stephen Foster, probably composed in 1852. It was published in January 1853 by Firth, Pond, & Co. of New York.