Long may you roam . . .

Hey, Hey, NRA
Who're you going
To **** today?

A little girl at school
Or a little boy at play
Maybe a *******
From India by mistake

Home defense
Is a good excuse
But it's more likely
to be home abuse

Suicides are up
And accidents too
But they're guaranteed
By Amendment Two

We all need protection
From all the terrorists
Because they can buy guns
Even if they're on our lists

And don't forget the Government
We'll need our peashooter Glocks
Against their heavy armament

Hey, Hey, NRA
Who're you going
To **** today?

it doesn't take much
to warm a planet
or raise the seas

just a few degrees

it doesn't take much
to whip the winds
across the plains

or end a drought
with thirsty rain

just a few degrees

it doesn't take much
to burn with passion
to laugh from joy
or cry from pain

just a few degrees

it doesn't take much
a hateful word
or a loving touch

to see the world
as round with hope
or flat with despair

it doesn't take much
just a few degrees

They are still dying
in Afghanistan.

Let us honor their sacrifice,
and save others,
by bringing them home.

Tiny was a terrible terrorist.

First, he was tiny.  
Then, he was terrible.  

Whenever he wanted to terrorize anybody,
he would say, "Hey, look at me!  I am a terrorist!"
So people would look.  

But because he was so tiny, they couldn't see him.
Not right away.  

First, they saw Tom cheating on Mary.
Then they saw Susan dumping Harry
and Lisa buying clothes.  Lots of clothes.

They saw Billy Bob pretending to be Bobby Sue
and the IRS targeting You Know Who.
They heard Lisa cry to her mom,
and Joey getting yelled at by his dad,
but they couldn't find Tiny,
and they were really sad,

Because Tiny changed his name to Tim,
and nobody knew it was him.

He crossed a continent for love,
not knowing where
his journey would lead.

Along the way,
he marched into wildfires
to save lives when others fled.

He kept his family close,
along with those he loved,
in ink forever in his flesh.

And in the end it was his flesh,
riddled with bullets in San Bernardino,
that saved the life of another.

"I got you," were the last words
of a heroic life gone too soon,

"I got you, Shannon Johnson," are our words
for a heroic man forever.

Our most basic common link
is that we all inhabit this planet.

We all breathe the same air.
We all cherish our children's future.

And we are all mortal.