America, the okay…

The Johnson’s cannot take one more battle,

That’s why our fearless leader left

She felt sorry for their weak aerial display

Against our bombs that would make you deaf.

The town of Crescent won’t be the same

without the Lewis family outing.

With Bocce Ball and beer from a washer

and the sound of the children shouting.

My brush was a candle of roman descent;

my canvas was the sky.

The paint I used was the fun of my heart

And gun powder mixed with dye.

We did not sing America the Beautiful,

singing could not behold our glory.

We didn’t see the point of hymns

When our sunburns could tell the story.

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