North of me, up Aganier
past that Urban Buccaneer
lives a gal with three big ears

One on the ground, one in the air,
and one that hears
but doesn't care

There's what we say
and what we meant
the days when she was President
and all our credit
has been spent
to make this gal
the President

Oh has she gone, oh gone
away
Fighting wars with ''PGA'' ?

Rubbing elbows with the class
that gives a rip
or a rat's (behind)
'bout Beacon Hill and fear of blight

Do they (like you) heed a siren's call
of bigger/better or nothing at all?
A step, a rung upon the ladder
Did your presence make us gladder?

Will you thank us, when you're through?
Or forget us, and
us like you?

Will we thank you when you're done?
Or forget,
a setting sun ?