Week Nineteen: “Little Man from Dangit”

Little man from Dangit
a  town you’d never hear of, except to drive through
They’d stuff him in his locker
make fun of his good grade all through high school
Had a father in a casket, had a mother in a bottle
about to drown
If brains and teeth were currency
he’d have been the richest boy in town

But when I’m president
you bet your boots they’ll all be sorry
when I bomb this stinking town halfway to Haiti
I’ll detail the football team
without a single warrant
and I’ll make Becky Sue my own first lady

Little man from Dangit
stumping in New Hampshire with his wife
Not as tall or handsome
as he thought he’d be at this stage of his life
The press is unforgiving, and the candidates
are just like these home town jocks
All it takes is one fumbled line
and once again he’s just a laughingstock

Little man from Dangit
prepping for a PTA debate
Election’s in the morning
one last chance to get one past the gate
The incumbent enters with a wink
just laughing, smiling, local through and through
Little man’s got none of that
no matter he’s a local boy, too


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