The local supply is anemic and pale A withered collection of kale-eating males Who wish to discuss their emotional trauma And bore me with stories of med school and drama But fresh off the bus from the plains of Nebraska Are boys who could function as heat for Alaska They haven’t a notion of Kierkegaard’s dread But Lord, they look talented lying in bed I am warm, I am wet, and I am waiting for you I am better than Hamilton And much easier to get into The Midwest is delivering its annual supply Of biologically valid and nutritious pie With a surplus of Illinois vigor and brawn No drama, no issues with mama, and testosterone We don’t need a duel to determine the state of the nation Just a willing participant prone to sudden inflation With a climax that isn’t a tragedy ending in death But a mutual, messy, and sharp intake of breath I don’t have an interval, darling, I go straight on through So forget the Red, White, and Blue I am better than Hamilton And much easier to get into You can stand in line for hours to look at men in tights Or you can skip the line and come inspect my opening nights I have vacancies immediately available now For the gentleman who knows his way around a plow I am civic infrastructure, I am patriotic aid I’m a shovel-ready project and I need to get laid I don’t need a turntable stage to create a sensation I rely on a classic and rhythmic pelvic rotation The imports from Dallas are looking for something with heat Not a history lesson set to a hip-hop beat They want a production with sweat and a tangible plot And I am the only performer not throwing away my shot So cancel the tickets and refund the tedious rap And settle me into your very (very) accommodating lap The rhythm is faster and the ending is true And I promise that the climax is entirely about you So discard the educational and embrace the obscene I am the only attraction that is fresh and clean (Well, clean enough) There’s a breeder of cattle from north of St. Paul Who is six-foot-eleven and incredibly small In the regions of brainpower, wit, and debate But south of the Mason-Dixon, a sovereign state And a delightful arrival from rural Ohio Who’s built like a bull and as dumb as a silo He’s bursting the seams of his flannel attire And ready to set the apartment on fire With a stamina born of a diet of steak And a total refusal to culturally wake He thinks that a “pronoun” is something you eat Which makes him a truly magnificent treat The staging is private, the lighting is dim And the plot is exclusively focused on him The reviews are ecstatic from all who apply For a seat in the section adjacent my thigh So cancel your tickets for something so new I am better than Hamilton And much easier to get into So forget the Red, White, and Blue I am better than Hamilton And much easier to get into…
