San Francisco celebrates World Series victory by enacting police state

Tin soldiers and Nixon's comin',

We're finally on our own,

This summer I hear the drummin',

Can't show my sloppy Joe...

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Hello, Hefner, my old friend,

I've come to talk with you again...

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We don't need no titilation,

We don't need no clothes control,

No dark sarcasm in the change room,

Hey, nudists! Leave the streets alone!

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Mama put my skin in the ground,

I can't wear it anymore...

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Come gather ‘round boomers where'er you disrobe,

And see how the waistlines around you have grown…

          For your tush, it is disgustin'