Thursday, January 24, 2013

Poem: Dear Johnny

(I wrote this in 2005, in a twist about Bush... clearly) 

Dear Johnny,
Why didn't the devil consult with me
Before laying the golden fiddle at Johnny's feet?
Devils in the house of the sun that sunk
And Johnny can't get up that kind of funk

I know the real Johnny would agree
Still the man in black, but now he's free
Cash? Who's that? Johnny Ritter they said!
They didn't even know that country was dead.
Oh hell, oh well, they'll never learn
Cowboys are gone and it's Dubya's turn
That chicken's in the bread pan, he's pickin' out dough,
He's done more damage then we'll ever know
Two more Johnny's come to mind
Kerry & Edwards- they walked the line
But no match to the man with crude oil
And if you lose, the devil gets your soul
He won, we lost- but I'm gonna start singin'
To the Devil's music and it's liberal swingin'
Mr. Cash knew then and you'll know now
You applaud the Devil while Johnny takes a bow.

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