It’s been a long time
a good line you’ve sent
just send out a rhyme
or simply repent
It’s twelve minutes past eight
on a Sunday afternoon
I expect you’ll create
lies for your baboon
As the sun slowly dies
and the darkness nears
I reminisce in lies
you’ve told through the years
So here I sit waiting
so strong and so brave
to read all the hating
from a fool and a knave
Yes somewhere in distance
hanging from a lib tree
a baboon sings assistance
while hating us free
He’s a toy sock baboon
with a soul full of stains
crying the hate tune
without any brains
He looks like a chimp
and acts like a whore
sounding as a pimp
when libs ask for more
Imprisoned by his hate
and his radical past
Obama’s dream fate
in November dashed
Yes somewhere in distance
hate-filled to the bone
he’ll get the real chance
to lie all alone
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