To have made it in this world, someone had to push.
Just ask her - the doctor told her to ‘push’ while she sat on her tush.
And look at you now, sitting on your tush,
listening to conversations from a TV, call it a modern day burning bush.
The empirical lyrical miracle,
now that’s just hysterical,
Please put the grind to the stone and remove the hypocritical.
distance the proof, substitute it with a spoof,
You’ll surely raise brows that’ll think it’s aloof.
A wayward mute,
opens his mouth, but there’s no reverberation off a single tooth.
Go mine, go ski,
better yet close the high school and make like bees.
don’t forget to knead the dough and sprinkle the flour,
take that mute to Crested Butte and pick wildflowers!