Ross Douthat Is The Boxer

I am just a rich boy
And my story's often told,
I make you squander your resistance
For a pocketful of mumbles,
Such are promises
All lies and jest
Still, a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest.

When I left my home
And my family,
I was no more than a boy
In the company of preppies
In the quiet of the luxury school,
Running scared,
Laying low,
Seeking out the hidden quarters
Where the geeky people go,
Looking for the places
Only they would know.

Lie-lie-lie...

Asking only rich man's wages I come looking for a job,
But I get no offers,
Just a come-on from the whores
On National Review
I do declare,
There were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there.

Lie-lie-lie...

Then I'm laying out my arguments
And wishing I was gone,
Going home....