Ralph

When he was younger he used to drive truck;

one million miles, no wrecks; that's not luck,

but when he got older he used to drive drunk,

and when he arrived you could tell 'cause he stunk,

but no one got hurt; we're all still alive;

he knew he was drunk, so he drove thirty-five.

An Idaho bigot, he had great dislike

for those Democratic, the n****r, the kike,

but hating in person he found hard to do;

he hung with the Mexicans, lesbian, too,

and were you a neighbor, his duty was clear;

he'd stop by the socialist's place for a beer

and to our surprise, we found in the end

that he was the person who'd been our best friend

and life isn't always quite what you intend.