In February 16th And February 65 in Washington, D.C., the subject of this song was born, but Kavanaugh was he.

No one ever dreamed a dream for justice he would be, the most disgusting, womanizing drunk you'll ever see Everyone knows the story goes at breath he likes the beers and blacking out on Guinness

With Tobin and with squeat

Turnin' out the lights and chrome and cream outs with his beers

The way he pitches his lips looks like an anatus between his ears

Hurrah, hurrah for Kavanaugh who knew you The way he pitches his lips looks like an anus between his ears.

Hurrah, hurrah for Kavanaugh, who knew you'd get this far? Not only did you pass the bar, you passed out at the bar.

Who would think that selling your soul and blow in Kenneth's star?

What gets you smug in tight?

The ass exactly where you are.

Let's have a shot of whiskey as we sing about whole bread. Forces himself on women that he says that he forgets

And doesn't show the slightest fucking morsel of regret.

Let's pour another shot so we don't talk about his dead.

Does anyone believe this fucking assholes on the core? another shot so we don't talk about his dead.

Does anyone believe his fucking assholes on the court?

And all the while he's saying to us, come on and be a sport.

I went to Yale, I'm white and nail, your ship has come to port.

Take off your shirt, hike up your skirt and show me your support.

Hurrah, hurrah for Kaithana, you filthy fucking trick.

The way you're treating women really makes me fucking sick.

I hope with Bader Ginsburg goes and hits you with a stick,

gets you with an uppercut and kits you in a dick.

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