The night Dean put Old Dixie down

(to the tune of “The Night they drove Old Dixie down” by the Band)

Howard Dean is the name and I served in a state near Maine
A Vermont governor once, I shot off my mouth again
In the winter of 65, I was skiing, just stayin’ alive
But now I’m running for President and I seem to have lost all common sense

The night Dean put Old Dixie down and he was condescending
The night Dean put Old Dixie down, with no apology pending
He went na-na-na-na-na-na na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na

In the debates my rivals all tried to criticize me
“Howard, why do you raise the ghost of Robert E. Lee?”
They all think what I said was bad
But I’m trying to reach the NASCAR dads
I need them if I want to win the day; the critics will all vote for Dems anyway

The night Dean put Old Dixie down, he used to be winning
The night Dean put Old Dixie down, and now his aides are spinning
They went la-la-la-la-la-la-la la-la-la-la-la-la-la-la

All the pollsters before me say I need the South
But the problem I have is: I run off at the mouth
I know the battle is half-won
If I can make them give up their God and guns
I swear by the Vermont mud below my feet
I’ll win those rednecks over or I’ll face defeat

The night Dean put Old Dixie down – a Yankee condescending
The night Dean put Old Dixie down – he’ll have no happy ending
Na-na-na-na-na-na na-na-na-na-na-na-na-na.