John Q. Congress became a man
In the mean streets of Happyburb
Spent his allowance at Dairy Queen
Jumped his Stingray off the curb
Rose to fame in the Little League
It was there without a doubt
That he came to love the concept of
Three Strikes and You're Out

They sent John Q to Washington
Just to toss around the old horsehide
Then he threw 'em a curve or two
Pretty soon he was high and inside
So he drafted a crime bill
It was John Q's finest clout
And he gave it a name after the game
Called it Three Strikes and You're Out

You hit a serious foul or two
And you're right back at the plate
But swing and miss on the third time
And your bills are paid by the state
"Don't you worry 'bout healthcare,"
John Q stated, feelin' stout,
"'Cause everyone is covered under
Three Strikes and You're Out."

John Q knew it was workin'
When they closed all the public schools
All the neighborhood libraries,
All the playgrounds, parks and pools
And the kids went to prison camp
Poundin' gravel and scrubbin' the grout
Had the warden bind their hands behind 'em
For Three Strikes and You're Out

John Q Congress, he robbed a bank
With a pistol he had stole
Hijacked a tour bus across state lines
Didn't even pay the turnpike toll
And the judge said, "Strike Three, John,
I oughta sentence you life in the dugout
But I'm not inclined to put you in a bind
'Cause you're not the kind the bill was designed
To keep confined and out of mind
And Justice is blind with one hand tied behind her
For Three Strikes and You're Out."

Writer : ROY ZIMMERMAN
Copyright : Lyrics © BUG MUSIC