Wayne Upon the Wooftop: A Christmas Present for the NRA

I hear Wayne upon the wooftop
He’s declaiming to the skies
He’s been paid to guard those goddamn guns
With pennies for your eyes
He’s got Smith & Wesson’s blessin’s
So he’ll never be alone
Gun erect against the government
With all their tanks and drones
I hear Wayne upon the wooftop
I’m afraid he’s lost his head
‘Cause he says he only feels safe
In a fusillade of lead
He blames videos and movies
And the things we do for fun
Excepting target practice
On dark shadows with a gun
I hear Wayne upon the wooftop
And he’s firing no blanks
While survivalists and nutjobs
Offer up their praise and thanks
Yes that’s Wayne upon the wooftop
Of the school, a dancing clown –
But it’s really only funny
When the Wayne is falling down.

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About nitrovonborax

This Site is Under the Protection of von Borax Security, Inc. & Nose Punchers Nationwide. Watch Out & Be Nice.

Posted on December 25, 2012, in Poems and Literary Peccadillos and tagged , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.

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