The Illinois emperor favors no bail for the violent
He's a softy in the middle, and more so on crime
From his bullhorn pulpit, he proclaims that we're safe
I'm afraid the land of Lincoln is made of papier-mâché.
He lives in a crystal bubble in a billionaire's den
with state-of-the-art, impenetrable defenses.
He hates the 2A and the working-class men
his weapon of choice is a red-headed commie pen.
His next plan is to mix wildlife into our lives
like lions and elk and black bear... oh my.
He's caved to the lobbyist and tree-hugger friends
while playing with his snubby under a wooden desk...
But the citizens of Cook County keep voting him in; he bribes them with freebies and slaps them on the wrist.
History told us was a new world,
Futher more was discovered by Christopher Columbus,
Dominated by working corps red Indies,
And build by sweat and blood of black slaves,
Other whisper that is land of Lincoln,
But echo sound remind me is land of no one,
There racism is common like cumulonimbus clouds,
Being black is an offense of billions killers,
Justice is the common blacks dream in land,
Oh! Partisans let them tripartite mare anger,
My sons and daughter sing different anthem,
Anthem of justice and acknowledgment in the land,
Holds me friends this is the land of everybody,
Let’s have courage and defend our dignity.
My hunger was much and also very
So I wanted pie made of strawberry
Which was so sweet with firm crust;
To eat it you should and also must.
You can tell from your very first bite
Whether in morning, noon or at night
With no one would you want to share
Because my pie is beyond compare.
So I ate it all and did not saving any;
Days did pass by which were many;
Wondered if I should make one more;
Could not resist so I made a score.
Being that I am always very well fed
Should I make only seven instead,
And if land of Lincoln is where I live
To whom should my pies I now give.
I did gave to God the very first piece
And rest I gave to Chicago police
Which was so cold and never hot;
Now I have a free parking spot.
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I n growing up I was always proud
L incoln spent so much of his life here
L eaving us only for a higher calling.
I nto the fray of national division he strode
N ow convicted of the certainty of the cause.
O nly in the quiet moments alone could he bear the grief
I n the need to calm the nation by bathing it in blood
S o that all men could here be free.
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