My table never empty
The clothes stayed fresh
You always provided plenty
And yet your hand met her flesh
I learned my love of contact from you
The passion with pigskin
My childhood was in your queue
But you never put the work in
My higher learning is your credit
My IQ is a gift
I only wish I could edit
How quick ***** made you shift
I grew big and strong
Which mirrors your design
I feel like a pig with a ****
A ending to your punchline
You fooled me for years
Reflected a false light
The man who appears
To be my biggest copyright