“But, Doc, she can’t be really dead.
It’s all most surely in her head.
This Pandemic’s all a hoax.”
It’s not my style for telling jokes
Spewing lies and swill to kill
(Oh, yes, oh yes, lies surely will!).
A funny kind of funky freedom
To owe your soul to Tweedledum
And give your body to disease
Enslaved & doing as you please
Or so you think. It’s so absurd
To disavow a doctor’s word
But think that talk show hosts are sane.
“Don’t tell me that they rot my brain.
Aside from cash, they’ve naught to gain.”
So, on we go to chapter four.
Where selfishness is de rigueur.
Those who scream the loudest score.
Democracy is shaken more
Than simply stirred. It’s time to pour
Your heart and soul into the fray—
Or Nazi crews will win the day;
Ineptitude and treason sway;
As Putin smiles his work to see.
But we can still show unity.
And touch a touch of sanity.
Restore our sense of dignity.
Rebuild our country full of love.
Kick away the thrown glove.
See the land as though above.
That we all differ? — That’s our soul!
We must recall our journey’s goal.
Diversity! It makes us whole!
Outside forces force our hand
Trying to destroy our lovely land.
But you and I and everyone
Don’t have to play one for one.
Our common fight for freedom’s fun.
And, one fine day, pandemic done,
We’ll all shun GRUesome treachery;
We’ll shun the grime of lechery;
Instead, adults will opt for good.
We always knew we should and could.
You’ll be amazed what we can do:
When all of each and each of you
Together seek the light that’s true.