My brain is tapioca,
Resting in a bowl of pudding skull,
And I’m ready to scoop it out and dump it
into the Kill Van Kull.
Things are changing, and the Wheel is turning,
and it just won’t be the same;
The Caliphate’s returning
to the East spreading and like a Flame,
and the Capitalist Octopus to the West,
That’s Rotting Marco’s brain.
This uneasy peace is falling to sleep
and the pieces have all been set;
the board is perilously laid,
Just waiting to make the Check.
And as the Powers that be stood quietly
with fingers meshed and held their breath,
the next Oppenheimer, Destroyer of Worlds was born,
And he’s ready to answer
the blast of the horn.
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