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Cronkite did the talking.
Nixon started walking.

Through the rabbit's ears
we saw it all.

Windows down by cranking.
Kids still got a spanking.

Food stamps were on paper
not on cards.

Pryor told the jokes.
Everybody smoked.

Man things were different
way back then.
Lone star prophet in
his cul-de-sac.

Mansion built by
a guilty back.

Measured out in sinners
per square feet.

He tells us heaven has
a cover charge.

But God takes Visa
and MasterCard.

And he’s at ten million
likes so far.

So hit share and you’ll
get in early.
"That's a pretty dress!"
"Daddy gave it to me!"
"Do you love your Daddy?"
"With all my heart!"
"That's a big bruise!"
"Daddy gave it to me."
"Do you love your Daddy?"
"With all my heart."
My feelings ain't hurt
but I'm crying.

Wet-eyed, Dry-cheek
kind of cry.

Crying pride that's
what I'll call it.

Hell, I guess they
do grow up.
In Mama's life her only worry,
Should be if she's at home in time to watch her story.

Not bills paid, money owed, or if she can make it.
There's a big diffrence between "Borrow it" and "Take it"

Worries that she'll break a bone from the meds she can't afford.
Part D is joke, Ain't that what Medicare is for?

And If they did pay cash, What would happen to the Horde?

The old man, He's still working, just to feed the tribe.
Wondering if he quits will the others stay alive?

Never used to worry if the sky turned into gray.
Now wondering what he'll do if it were to rains for days.

The tribe they don't care, I don't think they even wonder,
Just who is gonna feed them once the bank is 6 feet under?
Upon dead limb the
the vultures sit.

Waiting the wolf
his fill.

Necks twisted,
Wings flattened,

Ready to clean
the bones.
Barney backpack,
Cowboy Boots,
Little tow-head
boy.

Tasseled  hat,
Winners robe,
Fine young
man.


Issued backpack,
Army boots,
Future straight
ahead.

I'll be okay when
you leave, Then cry
when I can.
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