Saturday, November 20, 2010

Kansas City Bob - by Klecko

Angels flap their tired wings
Hoping to create a breeze
There's no place hotter
Than a kitchen in July

They've been sent in several legions
To observe your every move
You don't believe in them
But, your best friend does

They chuckle at your tattoo
The one that says Hillary 08
It pulsates on your bicep
When you fill those parfiet cups

You entered into my city
Wihtout cloak or beggers purse
The appropriete credentials
For a seasoned food service worker

Tonight I'm stuck in Moscow
And I'm watching CNN
The Popes at Yankee Stadium
Presenting his farewell Mass

I imagine blasphemous punchlines
Thay you'd deliver without effort
Then I feel nervous
Because I know they'd make me laugh

The Russian Chess Federation
Was closed when I stopped by
I bribed the guard
And, he let me look inside

I stared at empty tables
Where your heros waged their wars
I told their ghosts
Bobby Joe would kick your ass


Montreal, Chicago, Minneapolis too
Your tank was almost empty
If you didn't leave real soon
You'd never get back to Missouri

Angels clip their tired wings
They're not going anywhere
They prefer your company
And reside in Kansas City

END

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