Hail to the chief. We have no chief.
Time for the apocalypse I say.
We can’t says a chorus of faded faces
We need a chief before we declare an end
to blood, sweat, tears, and ninety-nine bottles of beer.
So bring on the Agent Orange and burn Seattle,
albuquerque, and Chicago, bring on the brown shirts.
Hell the world can’t end without brown shirts.
Faces fade more and more, voices mere mouthings.
You declare the Orange man to be Jesus.
Jesus and Charlie Manson declared Marilyn
bass guitarist, Juan to fill
while Jesus takes a full walk across Salt Lake City.