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T.R.E.A.T.S. #7 – The Ballad of A. John Joly

*Consider this the equivalent of that copyright page in novels that states all names, likenesses, etc. are a work of fiction. The song isn’t about an actual person. It’s all invented. I just liked the cadence of a real person’s name.*

(There was a young man named John

For whom laughter was just a con.

He hated how his namesake

Was preceded by a blank space

So he tacked an indefinite article on.)

A. John Joly talks for the first time in days

When a homeless veteran stops to importune some change.

But A. John just smiles and says “Change is for the infant brain.”

And Caveman Joly have brain real big, O.K.

A. John Joly loves a staring contest game.

You’re his opponent whether or not you want to play.

“A” stands “alpha,” and Alpha John won’t break his gaze,

So take this chance to sneak a glance at his girlfriend, she’s an 8.

A. John Joly thinks that small talk is a waste.

He oft compares it to the prattling of apes.

But you’re inevitably boring, when you are bored with everything.

If apathy’s a monarchy, Joly is the king.

A. John Joly has the Republican rage.

He’ll bring the ruckus to your Tea Party engagement.

If no one else will hold the sign saying “God will eat the Gays,”

A. John Joly will fall on that grenade.

A. John Joly is a golem made of clay.

He gets his paper scrolls from Glen Beck’s kitchen plate.

He only speaks when fed, but don’t think he’s of the Jewish faith.

‘Cause all men’s caps should have a bill

And please stop pushing he ate his fill

And quit your praying to Ezekial

‘Cause A. John Joly don’t think that shit’s O.K.



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