All bets are off, I suppose. Somehow we're gonna have to get back to the music. At least I am. I have grown weary of wringing my hands. If I were going to starve or freeze to death it would have happened a long time ago.
Those vermin in DC have nothing to do with me. Do you suppose that there is a scoundrel in Moscow who cares less about me that Paul Ryan does?
Oh, you know not to take me very seriously here. I'll be marching on Saturday and I'm not missing the bright light shining from Parkland. In the meantime let's sing.
Come on, rock'n'roll, save us again.