Credits

PERFORMING ARTISTS
Mario Cantone
Mario Cantone
Vocals
Stephen Sondheim
Stephen Sondheim
Performer
Assassins Orchestra
Assassins Orchestra
Orchestra
Bruce Samuels
Bruce Samuels
Synthesizer Programming
Joe Mantello
Joe Mantello
Conductor
Paul Gemignani
Paul Gemignani
Music Director
COMPOSITION & LYRICS
Stephen Sondheim
Stephen Sondheim
Songwriter
Emily Grishman
Emily Grishman
Copyist
KATHARINE EDMONDS
KATHARINE EDMONDS
Copyist
PRODUCTION & ENGINEERING
Bart Migal
Bart Migal
Editing Engineer
Bryan Russell
Bryan Russell
Assistant Engineer
Jim Briggs
Jim Briggs
Assistant Engineer
Joe Lambert
Joe Lambert
Mastering Engineer
John Marcus
John Marcus
Photography
Jon Krause
Jon Krause
Stage Manager
Philip Chaffin
Philip Chaffin
Executive Producer
Timothy R. Semon
Timothy R. Semon
Stage Manager
Tom Lazarus
Tom Lazarus
Mixing Engineer
Tommy Krasker
Tommy Krasker
Producer

Songteksten

Have it your way, have it your way
You know what my way is?
Hot
How 'bout a hamburger that's fuckin' hot!?
Don't blame me, I'm from Massachusetts!
Dick! You still there babe?
Sorry about that
Ten miles from the airport, I'm startin' to lose it here
Stay with me, baby, talk me down
You know, Dick—
In this, the waning hours of your administration
It seems appropriate to look back at your long years of public service
And to conclude that as our President, you really bit the big one
Wazoo city babe, what can I say?
And you know what—this cracks me up—I voted for you
Yes, I gave you my vote, my sacred democratic trust
And you know what you did?
You pissed all over it!
Ah, what the hell, guys like you, you piss all over everything
You piss all over the country, you piss all over yourselves
You piss all over me
Yeah, yeah I know
"Sam, don't say it!
You're my main man
Guys like you, you're the backbone of the nation
Sammy—"
Shut up Dick!
I'm talkin' now!
Alright!
I'm talkin' and you're listenin'!
Here. Have you seen the papers lately?
Grandma lives in packing crate
Sewage closes Jersey beaches
Saudi prince buys Howard Johnsons
What the hell is goin' on here, Dick!?
It wasn't supposed to be like this
It wasn't, but it is
And schmucks like you, you're tellin' us it isn't?
"Everything's fine, it's great, it's Miller time"
What Miller time!?
The woods are burnin', Dick
What can we do?
We want to make things better
How?
"Let's hold an election"
Great
The Democrat says he'll fix everything the Republicans fucked up
The Republican says he'll fix everything the Democrats fucked up
Who's tellin' us the truth?
Who's lyin'?
Someone's lyin'—who?
We read, we guess, we argue
But deep down we know that we don't know
How can we?
Oil embargos, megatons, holes in the ozone—
Who can understand this crap?
We need to believe, to trust, like little kids
That someone wants what's best for us
That someone's lookin' out for us, that someone loves us
Do they?
No, they lie to us
They lie about what's right, they lie about what's wrong
They lie about the fuckin' hamburgers!
And when we realize they're lying
Really realize it in our gut
Then we get scared
Then we get terrified
Like children waking in the dark, we don't know where we are
"I had a bad dream
Mommy, Daddy, Sammy had a nightmare"
And then Daddy comes and takes me in his arms and says
"It's okay Sammy, Daddy's here
I love you kid
Your mommy doesn't, but I do"
And then Mommy comes and holds me tight and says
"I gotcha bubula
I'm here for you
Your daddy isn't, but I am"
And then where are we?
Who do we believe?
Who do we trust?
What do we do?
We do the only thing we can do
We kill the President
Written by: Stephen Sondheim
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