I'm alone. Eighteen years young.
Standing in water, up to my knees.
The rippling sound of water over stone
Is relaxing me. I am surrounded by trees.
I let my barbed hook go downstream
As I watch the Sun, slowly appease
The darkened shadows of this mountain creek,
For it is opening day; ice cold and has tweaked
My nose and my young cheek.
A little tug on my fishing line,
Set the hook and it will be fine.
If my luck holds I will limit by Nine.

I went to a bar to get a drink,
for sometimes it helps me to think.
It was a dark, quiet, just before noon.
When I looked to my left there was a Baboon.
"Do I know you?", I said to he.
"I don't believe so, although I see
a resemblance of an old friend of mine,
who knew me when young and was kind
to me and family at that time of my life
and was the place I first met my wife."
That was the Baboon, relating to this old man,
of what his life was and how it began.
I was captured and removed from my family;
taken to a place where I could no longer be
with from my friends and others like me.
So I became lonely, very much like thee.
I thought a little as I remembered that refrain,
so I said, "My friend, are you pulling my chain?"

I begrudge you not
your round of golf, so
when I see you,
I want you to go
to a warm place
very deep, down below.

There is always an option,
I say to you.
No matter the candidate,
please vote Blue.
If you choose Red,
that's a color too,
But not the best for us.
Please vote Blue.