They didn’t want a woman,
They didn’t want a black,
But waited for an omen
To take their country back—
A conman with no manners
Upon the scene appeared,
One of the greatest fanners
Of fantasy, and wierd.
“Lay down your weary burdens,
And let me think for you;
With no more ‘beg your pardons’
Your greatness I’ll renew.”
His words fell down like manna.
“I can’t believe my ears,
Amongst flora and fauna
My greatness reappears.”
Alas, these motley laggards
Had never been so great,
A crew of boastful braggarts
(Today they wait, and wait).
Their greatness only ever
Existed in a dream,
As bleacher bums feel clever
To have a winning team.
The black man, he persisted,
The woman, she lived on,
But fantasies the mist did
Envelop, and were gone.
They never knew their folly,
Or knew what they had lost,
But chuckled “I’m so solly,”
A Rubicon being crossed.
We laugh at our ancestors,
“How could they be so dumb”
When even the court jesters
Predicted, crumb by crumb,
“The road away from virtue
Will never make you great,
But waylay and subvert you,”
Yet still they wait, and wait.
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