There’s No Preparing For The Revolution

There was this one guy who decided to only be dumb on Thursdays…
Hey, I kid you not, this is no joke. (I believe it all had something to do with
that new cult who teach you should put all your chickens in one basket.)

A Revolutionist who hears his mama, (or daddy), call him,
has just gone AWOL.


That short, hairy ole sorehead passed me this note
written on the back of a torn relative, it says,
“It seems to me that the only things required to be a
City philosopher are, a degree, a good memory,
a decent haircut and no personal ideas.” (Close cover when striking.)


Those who feel the need to defend their intelligence
needn’t bother.


This one guy I told you about, the one who lurks about,
oftimes laying beneath some bushes in the park,
the same guy who sometimes whispers stuff to me,
but who doesn’t want to be identified or quoted, well,
here’s his latest bombshell, he says,
(more or less just so he can’t accuse me of quoting),
“All words have their motive and all motives have their drive,
all drives their engines, and all engines have their spark,
and so on, bon ami, and so to all words I say,
‘Greetings great-grandchildren!’”


There is no way to prepare for the Revolution
and no way not to.



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