Lyrics

No his bags aren't packed
He's not ready to go
You can't get him outside his door
Unless to a screening or PTI

Oh, he'll take a train
'Cause it's on firm ground
Even if he hears
Bill O'Reilly's sound

Can you believe this guy
used to cover sports?

Hey, Jeffrey, won't you drive for me
An Impala, no I won't rent that
Guess I'll take that crappy SUV

He's not getting on a boat or airplane
He fears he won't come back again
Oy vey...what a schmuck

Irrational panic will overtake him
Make him go, he'll rip your lungs out, Jim
Probabilities, they don't mean a thing.
Every place he goes, he must park close
Every trip he takes, meds go up a dose
When he gets back, that red wine will flow...

Don't bother with Dramimine
His nice shirt still won't stay clean
Xanex won't keep him even-keeled

You'll never get him on a boat or airplane
So afraid to go over the rail
Or for the plane to crash-and-burn

He's not leaving on a boat or airplane
No payoff or voucher will do
Why can't Amtrak cross the ocean?