On the sixth of May, in the year one plus 2022,
In the heart of the emerald region that’s known by he, she and who,
A man sat with his hand in a puppet’s rear end
Reading a super chat about a boy who went around the bend
The Super chat asked I the boy had brains of glue
“brains of glue?” asked the man, “why I might agree with you.”
“Not that I’d be silly and think it’s true, but that boy, that boy
Might indeed seem to have brains of glue.”
The boy liked to fight, wrassle it’s true
Head gear was for sissys, he’d claim
But that was after a beating or two
He never acted right at any time, that anyone knew
Since his brains received lots of beatings
And might explain a thing or two
About how the brains, the brains,
Might have become glue
Never did the man believe it was true
That the boy, call him chi chi,
Had brains of glue, he only responded Responded to you,
The one who asked in a superchat about the brains of glue
But now the man is in court defending his blue
From the boy named chi chi with the (alleged) brains of glue
What more could he say as the boy bungled away
Any chance of a payout, which made him boo hoo
Because getting facts straight is important
To me and to you and every him, her and who
That you never go on attack with questionable facts
When you too have brains of glue
And on this day in August, with the brains not of glue
Did the boy Chi Chi tell an untrue
About a man who answered a question about brains of glue
And maybe, one day, proved to us all, that what the man said was true.
Chi chi, the boy, really had brains of glue.
