Tis what I do

In Hawaiian town, or African frown, of the coastal be
In trips of birth and life made plans, in sea to shining sea
The words are those, and these are them, from an aged mama
To tell the tale of tale is told
Well worn and weared fabric old
Is Barack Hussein Obama

Come praise the messiah, the noted one, in fawning fondling press
Speak not a word, not question quote, of Marxist to redress
Take not the stage, of whispering crowd, viewing this profound aged drama
Tell the tale for it is worn
Of fabric old and cloth torn
With Barack Hussein Obama

Oh but for the whistle, of life song, to which we all belong
To sing of change in hope of dreams, that might oh may be wrong
It matters not the Truth of cure in this election sauna
Tell the tale to begin
In moving lips but again
By Barack Hussein Obama

Fainting spells, and cheering yells, are what the saga tells
The sheep, to keep, in blessed sleep, in Muslim mahdi wells
Lead on, lead low, lead high, lead go, the now oft bleating llama
The tale, the tale, the wagging tail
Rhymed on and on without fail
For Barack Hussein Obama

Sing high, sing low, the praises be, for this the changling god
Vote early, vote once, vote twice is nice, for this four hoof now shod
Ride high but in the mourning dragged, but to a pause in comma,
Tell the tale of money ties
Told oft, in often, lies and whys
Of Barack Hussein Obama

Praise the native son is born, to twitter liberal point of view
Praise the change to believe in, in Marxism formed anew
Ring it from Denver mountain tops for native son Obama
Told the tale now setting sun
Now that the son now has come
In Barack Hussein Obama

agtG