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

No one ever dreamed a dream for just as he would be, the most disgusting womanizing drunk you'll ever see.

Everyone knows a story goes at breath he likes the beers

And black out, unkinnestout with toven and with squeak

Turnin down the lights and chrome in females with his fears

The way he pitches his lips looks like an an an anis 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?

And that's exactly where you are.

Let's have a shot of whiskey as we sing. What gets you smugging tight? That's exactly where you are.

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

And doesn't show the slightest morsel of regret.

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

Does anyone believe this 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 Kavanaugh, you filthy fucking prick.

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

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

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

...