Cut Off The Legs Till You're Sure
Are Past Regenerating Age
It's a stretch, but say Hillary is Jesse Owens
& Gdub is Hitler.
Make it farther fetched, put JC on the sideline
100 meters out
and Der Fuhrer in the blocks.
On your mark? Set.
And he's off! The nazis in the stadium cheer!
Oblivious to his stumbling monkey gait (and the
era democrats i now way back machine into bizzaro
who sit with arms crossed, harrumphing through
lips to themselves) the nazis cheer! He trips
hurricane and they Cheer! That's not track ash
face, it's wind in his hair! And they cheer!
Pretending to run crawling, his optical illusion
the blind, he says "See, me I'm a runnin' man,
runner its what I do. Some cross arm kissyfaces'
hockin & ahemin that little neck huff a theirs'
I'm on all fours one shoe tied to the other.
a War guy! (cheers) I can tie my shoes! (Cheers)
run for Freedom! (Cheers!) My sweatsocks are
freedom! The soles of my Nikes are made of FREEDOM!
(sound of broken cheer button wiggling) And me,
stompin man! (bzztchEERS!)
Before the nazis open their eyes and see hes not
across the sky with baby angels and before he
can get up and
trip on his tangled laces, Dick Cheney hops up
in a burlap bag
made of Fascism Bush sticks half of freedom in
it and they
bounce down the track telling 3rd leg jokes.
300 meters to go.
And they Cheer!
Rounding the bend where Jesse is standing he can
them hop along, or he can stick out his foot
em into the dirt for a couple harrumphs and the
fathers' sons' whole zeitgeist as a witness a
stadium of nazis would drop all the whup they
that ass before the democrats from the future
to swallow, and say how tripping is always wrong.
Moral to the story;
Democrats of the future, get back to where you