Well you wouldn’t want a fat cop running through the steets, he might knock someone over. ;-p
Big Rock Candy Mountain
http://www.bluegrasslyrics.com/all_song.cfm-recordID=s29253.htm
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains the jails are made of tin
And you can walk right out again as soon as you are in
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains all the cops have wooden legs
And the bulldogs all have rubber teeth and the hens lay soft boiled eggs
The farmer’s trees are full of fruit and the barns are full of hay
Oh, I’m bound to go where there ain’t no snow
Where the rain don’t fall and the wind don’t blow
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
[This Fall, Super Tuesday.]
[Global warming, more Katrinas — a chicken in every pot.]