We are a commune of inquiring, skeptical, politically centrist, capitalist, anglophile, traditionalist New England Yankee humans, humanoids, and animals with many interests beyond and above politics. Each of us has had a high-school education (or GED), but all had ADD so didn't pay attention very well, especially the dogs. Each one of us does "try my best to be just like I am," and none of us enjoys working for others, including for Maggie, from whom we receive neither a nickel nor a dime. Freedom from nags, cranks, government, do-gooders, control-freaks and idiots is all that we ask for.
"Well it's twinkle, twinkle, little star Along came Brady in his 'lectric car He's got a mean look right in his eye He's gonna shoot somebody just to see 'em die
Refrain: He's been on the job too long!
Well, Duncan, Duncan was tending the bar Along comes Brady with his shining star And Brady says, "Duncan, you're under arrest," Then Duncan shot a hole right in Brady's chest
Brady, Brady, Brady, well you know you done wrong Breakin' in here while the games goin' on You come a-breakin' down the windows, And knockin' down the door And now you're lyin' dead on the barroom floor
Well, ol' King Brady was a big fat man The Doctor reached down, grabbed a hold of his hand He felt for his pulse, then shook his head Said I believe to my soul, King Brady's dead
High tail carriages just a -standin' around To carry King Brady to the buryin' ground Them rubber tired buggies, them rubber tired hacks They took him to the graveyard, never brung him back
When the women all heard that King Brady was dead They went out a home and they be racked in red They come a-slipping' and a-slidin' and shufflin' down the street In their big mother hubbards and their stockin' feet."
"Duncan and Brady," which I am happy to be able to post now that someone has uploaded a video of a 2000 performance, a year when Bob opened many of his shows with the song. Who was the original author? I do not know.