Adams:
 I do believe you've laid a curse on North America
 curse that we now here rehearse in Philadelphia
 second flood, a simple famine
 Plagues of locusts everywhere
 Or a cataclysmic earthquake
 I'd accept with some despair
 But, no, you sent us Congress.
 Good God, sir, was that fair?

 I say it with humility in Philadelphia
 We're your responsibility in Philadephia
 If you don't want to see us hanging 
 From some far-off British hill
 If you don't want the voice of independency
 Forever still
 Then God, sir, get thee to it
 For Congress never will

 You see, we piddle, twiddle, and resolve
 Not one [bad word] thing do we solve
 Piddle, twiddle, and resolve
 Nothing's ever solved in
 Foul, fetid, fuming, foggy, filthy
 Philadephia!

 They may sit here for years and years in Philadelphia.
 These indecisive grenadiers of Philadelphia.
 They can't agree on what is right and wrong 
 Or what is good or bad; I'm convinced
 The only purpose this Congress ever had
 Was to gather here specifically
 To drive John Adams mad!

 You see, we piddle, twiddle, and resolve
 Not one [bad word] thing do we solve
 Piddle, twiddle, and resolve
 Nothing's ever solved in
 Foul, fetid, fuming, foggy, filthy
 Philadephia!

 Congress:
 Someone oughta open up a window! 

 Adams:
 Oh good God! 

 Abigail:
 John, John, is that you carrying on, John?

 Just tell the Congress to declare independency
 Then sign your name, get out of there and 
 Hurry home to me
 Our children all have dysentery
 Little Tom keeps turning blue
 Little Abbey has the measles
 And [bad word] down with flu
 They say we may get smallpox

 Adams:
 Madam, what else is new? 

 Abigail:
 There's one thing every woman's missed in
 Massachusetts Bay
 Don't smirk at me, you egotist; pay
 Heed to what I say
 We've gone from Framingham to Boston
 And we cannot find a pin
 "Don't you know there's a war on?"
 Say the tradesmen with a grin
 Well, we will not make saltpeter
 Until you send us pins!

 Both:
 Till then, till then
 I am as I ever was and ever shall be
 Yours, yours, yours, yours, yours 

 Adams:
 Saltpeter, John 

 Abigail:
 Pins, Abigail 

 Congress:
 For God's sake, John, sit down