作曲 : John Dempsey/Dana P. Rowe
 Violet:
 Work your fingers down to the gristle
 Grit your teeth
 Sell the lies
 Garden club
 Church ev'ry Sunday
 Then comes Monday
 One whore too many and -
 Boom! Surprise
 Jesus, how they burn, Grahame
 Those flashbulbs in your eyes...
 Grahame:
 All those pointless years
 The spirit sapped
 The soul diminished
 Let it go
 Accept your losses
 If nothing else
 At least it's finished...
 Violet:Wrong!
 No backing down
 No copping out!
 I'm holding sway -
 I've fought the whole of my life
 For the brass ring
 And no one can take that away!
 It's mine, Grahame! It's mine
 One way or another...
 If I can't be the wife of the president
 You can bet your ass
 I'll be his mother.
 Grahame:Oh my god...
 Violet:We're moving ahead with Cal
 We're moving ahead...
 With Cal
 Grahame: Cal? Your son - in politics?!
 Violet: Why so surprised, Grahame?
 Grahame: If you think you can get that boy elected to anything higher than student council, you're as insane as he is!
 Violet: Grahame...
 Grahame: Sanity's expected in the White House
 A sense of right and wrong and fam'ly love
 Sanity's expected in the White House
 Or at least a fair facisimilie thereof!
 Violet: There's nothing wrong with Cal...
 Grahame: Questionable blood, Violet
 Questionable paternity!
 Violet: He's of decent lines
 Noble lines
 Honorable lines...
 Grahame: Questionable paternity!
 Bobby 'Cracker' Barrel:Let it be said
 That I loved me a woman
 A first class, high tone
 Washington bitch...
 Violet: It's mine, Grahame! It's mine
 One way or another...
 If I can't be the wife of the president
 You can bet your ass
 I'll be his mother
 Grahame & Violet:
 Let's not tallk of feuds
 His'tries of remore
 And sorrow...
 Face the press
 Combine our forces
 Damn the past
 Embrace tomorrow
 Face the press / Press the flesh
 Damn the past
 Embrace tomorrow