The right fielder’s catching lefty   The Dodger’s sockets are red   The stadium cheers for lions   Good Time Religion’s dead      Here comes the pity monger   He receives that one man’s wave   He’s eighteen hundred on the asphalt   He’s eighteen years old in his grave      And the scene kids and the skinheads   All walk through the monger’s shoes   As the Umpire of America’s game   Becomes one of the wrong dudes         The prom date scowls at the beatnik   They argue about gambling and scores   The poet fancies himself a player   His cohort fancies him a whore      Then into the scene pops eye candy   The muses forget to stand straight   Now his pockets are full of molehills   And his stomach reeks of dumb weight      And the Aryan war hawk opens his mouth   And toggles bohemians’ moods   So the Pope hits home, he calls himself Rome   He’s now one of the wrong dudes         Now the whitefish are so common   They convince pike and carp to switch   The salmon struggles lightly   But is no match for the clutches of the witch      All take her man’s name while swooning   Especially the damsel in the dress   Everybody’s forgiven the bigger fish   And forgotten the salmon’s quest      So the leaders of this fertile pack   Invite the Brownies to the tree while nude   And the snake is crowned the mountain king   By all of the wrong dudes         The madam lures her lone wench   For them I’m nervous yet thrilled   I’ve never yet been to heaven   But two of my selves have been killed      She speaks of glory from hardship   But I’m not learning anything new   She says I’ve still got lots to learn   I say I’ll learn as I do      And all I can see is the reddest of lights   That by saying “yes” says “no” so rude   As the freedmen face more slavery   Thanks to all of the wrong dudes         Madoff and Manny in one man   With his neon signs appearing free   Charges his cousin twenty-eight grand   Though no employees agree      Now his cult run a lap to paradise   But that same road leads to the dark   Ever since Noah shut his doors   To the last animal to knock on the ark      You would not think that handsome cat   Possessed ancient habits so crude   His kin now dreams of vengeance   Upon all of the wrong dudes         Dr. Bork, he knows no poetry   Tell me how he aced his prose   He keeps his practice in the quack tabloids   And his trembling patients in rows      Now his star pupil is in handcuffs   Or so that kid’s mother blabbed   And she also helped that physician   To hail fifty million cabs      They all despise a wise teacher   They’re underpaid until they’re sued   And the Umpire favors the horsemen   And all of the wrong dudes         Across the street the fashion police   Chase after the alien queen   The loudest and fastest white girls   Are given second chances by the Dean      I heard one cop make a comment   That put all the Mexicans down   Nowadays it’s damn near illegal   To be a Mexican in a white town      And the liberal elitists shout “Democracy”   But they want that as much as fast food   They also blame Israel as much as Iran does   They blame all of the wrong dudes         All of these hip new hopers   Know that their Umpire’s black   But they love how he avoids Ebonics   So they’d cut his brother no slack      And they call their music “indie”   And they call their cannabis “bud”   That music and weed once belonged to others   Who now grumble in the mud      Where have all the good people gone?   Slim Shady’s presence is lewd   The elite will grab anything and ruin it   For the consumption of the wrong dudes         The Umpire is not a bad man   But he’s on the political see-saw’s top   The elephants are on the see-saw’s base   Soon their suffering will stop      The Umpire got a new puppy   So the newscasters invade his room   Until some pigs cause some Mexican deaths   And influenza is portrayed as doom      There’s a panic as schools close for the month   And when one camper’s sickness is viewed   You can bet the epidemic is hyperbole   With all of the wrong dudes         So the world is rotten   The economy’s not all that’s poor   There’s things going wrong with the government   There’s things going wrong with the war      We must act or be acted upon   We can’t just complain about life   If we keep our heads up   We can get closer to eliminating strife      And as long as the Umpire does his job   We can believe that change will come through   But I would be much happier to live   Without all of the wrong dudes.