Friday, February 3, 2012

Morning Governor

Twer' the night before John Dick
And all thru the manor
Not a salt tab could be found
Just remants of powder

The shoes were piled
In the basement in boxes
Some missing inserts
And the others had rocks in

I looked at the fuel belts
That were still in the package
I won't need those things
There just extra baggage

I pulled out the duct tape
Said your my best friend
You'll cover my nipples
Might use you again

Hey Adidas, hey Asics
I said in my head
Can you pound down the trail
Beat Egnarski again

When all of the sudden
It dawned on me then
The Dick's not a race
It's a run with good friends

There's chili, there's brownies
There's beer and there's soup
It's a primitive trail run
I might even poop

I'll see you tomorrow
Fifteen bucks in my hand
And before I forget
Someone please bring the Hamm's

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