Brianland

     Where  Wayward  Jekylls  Hyde

                            The 

          Mighty  Bama-Rama  Rap

                                                                                by Brian Hassett, Sept. ‘08

Like tonight is the night,

          the Barack is The Rock,

And “change” is The Word,

          and the voice has been heard,

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And the heart is on the drums,

          and passion’s playin’ bass,

And the word has hit the streets  -

          you can see it in their face!

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There’s a choir in the chapel

          an’ they’ve just begun to swing,

There’s a band down on the corner,

          hear the chimes of freedom ring.

/ / / / / / / / / /

It starts off kinda quiet,

          an underdog in spring,

No coronation here

          from a white-haired former king.

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Just a jazzy scrappy jugband,

          eternity on tap,

And the singer in the center

          with the silky thunder rap.

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The conductor: . . . of-an-orchestra,

          and a mighty rolling train,

Playing sweet sonatas

          and crushin’ John McCain.

/ / / / / / /

The combo’s on the road,

          packin’ stadiums ‘n’ clubs;

Chopping down great big lies

          and tiny weedy shrubs.

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Tonight the tour’s landed

          at Toronto’s famous pub,

To listen for the next question

          that John McCain will flub,

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Where the poets strum and teachers play

          and time is on our side                              ”yes it is!”

Where colors swirl, the nuns have fun

          and wayward Jekylls hyde.

/ / / / / / /

Two score and five ago

          our father Martin dreamed

Imagining a whole new world

          beyond what his had seemed.

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Blink your eyes and here we are

          awoken from the dream,

To find our plans were written by

          that visionary’s beam.

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So, . . . bless this race.

                              . . . This human one,

                   That comes in many shades,

Bless this space, this human one,

          Inspiring in spades.

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It’s forty-years since Martin marched

          and water-cannons shot,

We’re still alive on the-other-side,

          and this is what he sought.

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Launching dreams from Lincoln’s steps

          arching across the sky,

Who’d a thought we’d hit the oath,

          The inaugural bull’s-eye!

/ / / / / / / / / / /

So, on to P.A., Ohio,

          and everywhere we’re not,

It’s a Happy Holy Homerun

          with everything we’ve got!

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The band has played, the song has sung,

          and now we’re on our own,

To ride this wave, and thumb this road,

          and take the flight path shown.

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From dreams on stages, thru history’s pages,

          We’re making words come true,

The choir’s singin’, the bells are ringin’

          but This is up to you.

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 “Yes, we can!”

.

Obama ‘08