Send In The Clowns

Isn’t it great?
Trumpets will blare.
Judge telling jokes about Rick’s bong,
And his hair.
Where are the clowns?


I’ll toast Lord Bliss.
He’ll threaten to sue.
Needing more money to dye his hair,
Ty-d bowl blue.
He calls us clowns.
There ought to be clowns.

Rick hears our laughter, visits our site.
He says “you mock the great Lord,
Prepare for a fight!”
“I do all the hard work,
But none of you care.”
None of you lazy bastards,
Even posts there there.


Don’t you love farce?
I surely do.
Rick makes the ghosts laugh so hard,
They can’t say boo.
But where are the clowns?
Rick hates the clowns.
Oh brother, they’re here!


Hot dogs and beer?
Then maybe we’ll toke?
At Lords meet up he’ll blow Holy smoke.
But where are the clowns?
There ought to be clowns.
They’ve all gathered right here . . .