She wanted to talk politics
And I was a little drunk
(which I usually am), so
I said what I always never say:
“Me, I’m a radical rubbishtarian
With a populist propensity
Toward Rhinegoldian rhetoric.”
She whacked me hard once or twice
With Mao’s little red book,
Or maybe it was Atlas Shrugged
Or the poetry of Jimmy Stewart,
And I again repeated 1,000 times
“One for all, and all for one!”
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