Ghost of Richard Nixon
It was a cold December night and the sky was full of stars
When the ghost of Richard Nixon came to town
He hovered across the Mall and over the frosty Pool
The icy water couldn't hurt him none
On Pennsylvania Avenue there was no soul in sight
He flew right through the fences and the walls
He knew his way around the house, the night watchman felt a breeze
As the Specter passed the corridors and halls, the corridors and halls
He moved from room to room like soft and silent breath
Searching for a token of his past
He saw portraits of ol' Eisenhower, Kennedy and Bush
Even Bush's son, that little brat
Paintings stared back at him from every frickin' wall
But his were probably stashed inside a vault
He had done some good deeds, it wasn't all bad
They must remember China or SALT
China or SALT. China or SALT
When things grinded to a halt
It was someone else's fault
But he had China and SALT
What makes a man a hero of just and noble cause
Revered within the pages of a book?
I insisted then, I keep declaring now:
No apologies, I am not a crook
It was a cold December night and the sky was full of stars
When the ghost of Richard Nixon came to town
He hovered across the Mall and over the frosty Pool
The icy water couldn't hurt him none
When the ghost of Richard Nixon came to town
He hovered across the Mall and over the frosty Pool
The icy water couldn't hurt him none
On Pennsylvania Avenue there was no soul in sight
He flew right through the fences and the walls
He knew his way around the house, the night watchman felt a breeze
As the Specter passed the corridors and halls, the corridors and halls
He moved from room to room like soft and silent breath
Searching for a token of his past
He saw portraits of ol' Eisenhower, Kennedy and Bush
Even Bush's son, that little brat
Paintings stared back at him from every frickin' wall
But his were probably stashed inside a vault
He had done some good deeds, it wasn't all bad
They must remember China or SALT
China or SALT. China or SALT
When things grinded to a halt
It was someone else's fault
But he had China and SALT
What makes a man a hero of just and noble cause
Revered within the pages of a book?
I insisted then, I keep declaring now:
No apologies, I am not a crook
It was a cold December night and the sky was full of stars
When the ghost of Richard Nixon came to town
He hovered across the Mall and over the frosty Pool
The icy water couldn't hurt him none
Credits
Writer(s): Ilkka Kullervo Ranta-aho
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