Neither bells rang
nor rifles sounded
The transition quiet
neither looting nor riots
A veritable coup
pulled off by old pros ~
helpless, pinned to the ground
Cry ‘Uncle,’ Joe, it’s time to go
Yes, indeed. Alright. I'm lily-white
all 9+ feet of me, a tricolor sight
But now I'm 'racist' and 'insensitive'
because 'brown pigment I lack'
A half-nelson applied to my aching 'red-neck'
Cry 'UNCLE,' they scream, the political hacks
Watch your step don't trip over
Your fallen expectations
Walking this course with one foot out
the door
the other firmly planted entrenched in
fact in a masochistic inability to cry uncle
Drawn and quartered by this
Particular style of romantic comedy of errors
Let us pretend you mean what
You say or just
Put it all off for another day
Playing nice so late in the game
Only serves to confuse
I am immobilized not by your charade instead
By this belching,bellowing all consuming fear
How could any place anywhere come
Close to this exquisite unintentional misery
Unintentional as to my role,yours
a well orchestrated horror show in which
You stand in the wings clapping wildly
Calling out to my now deaf ear Encore! Encore !
We are the ants
who march into
your pantry
as well as your pants
We are the ants
who stealthy advance
do a snake dance
then eat up your plants
For we are ants
not sycophants
your Devastation
~ our gleeful bromance
I'm really much too young to get old
Something's drastically out of whack
I'm still this handsome, charismatic dude
Why's this body giving me flack?
Lumps have appeared all over my bod
Don't think they were there yesterday
My hair seems a bit thinner and greyer
But I'm still young in other ways
My body is falling apart bit by bit
Takes me an hour to put on my pants
I wheeze while watching sports on TV
My wife never asks me to dance
There must be a pill old geezers can take
To slow down this ageing tommyrot
I'm not ready yet for an old folks home
Yesterday, I was still pretty hot
This can't be, I'm much too young
To cry 'uncle' and throw in the towel
Gonna fight like hell and never give up
If I could only control my bowels!
Remember that singer, Art Garfunkel
He developed a painful carbuncle
Got down on his knees
Said, 'Don't lance it, please'
The mere thought of blood makes me cry 'Uncle'
Of course, old Art's lost most of his hair
Back in the day, he sure had lots up there
But once he got old
He had this bad cold
Misdiagnosed ~ His doc shaved his head bare
I'm a nine-year-old ball of mad,
don't like this thing I see
Got me bouncing off the walls,
mama wanna know what's wrong with me
So I tell her,
but only so much
Don't want mama burning a trail,
ending up in jail
Anyhow, I don't need no parental aid,
I'm the neighborhood kid
who first wore the justice cape
From my x-ray eyes they can't escape,
when they're doing something wrong
I'm gonna catch them,
and make them cry uncle
Right now, it's summertime,
which means a lot of long lines ...
and outside there's no shade
As I see the object of my ire,
what stokes my personal crusade
For two bucks, bad Kenny
is selling one dollar lemonade
I hate seeing greedy people getting paid,
I got a mind to overturn his crook stand haterade
Even though I'm just a kid,
that's my personal crusade ... at least for today
I want to wrap your heart around my little finger
give you more than you ever thought possible
make you cry "uncle" from too much love
leave you feeling like you can never get enough
I want to make you breakfast while the world is asleep
have coffee with you and watch the sun break the clouds
go back to bed and pick up where we left off
make you cry "uncle" from too much love