2010 Bozo Songs From The Forthcoming Release:
"Economy Is Such A Tease"

The 2009 Score: A Bozo Ottava Rima Eve Song

The best of this year was a journey to Oz
Where grownups reside and advise without spin
How best to make due with subordinate clause
And go beyond shit to where pearls aren't a sin
Yet death slapped down two, who deserved some applause
From those on the sidelines, an army all in.
What peers in the wind is the sight of our times
Remaining in view, and remembered in rhymes.

In Reids Of Our Choosing, The Waters Rush By: A Bozo Ottava Rima Song

We are all light skinned with Negro dialect
What we want is leaders who are more than shit
And don't see bankers as a befitting sect
And won't be just wankers who want one more hit
When their heads are as high as their laps erect
We'll say they are twinned with the losses bit.
Divorced are we now from what passes for fame
Of course our linger has no skin in the game.

The Village, The Age, The Surging, The Purging: A Bozo Ottave Rima War Song

Moshtarak, Mubarak, they all seem the same!
A battle we don't want, all dying in vain.
Victory defined by one dictator's game
With allies who can't, and the torturer's stain.
Revenge is refined, all coruscating flame
Of fighting slant; these volunteers feel some pain,
While embedded upon Republican spree
Or Bayhnomial rant: so human rights free.

Education In Ratiocination: A Bozo Ottava Rima Song

We are a land full of posthumous degrees.
For those whose fate we can no longer control
Or animals not supporting industries
Who wash out a late someone drowning in coal
A gallon, a barrel, the scuttling of pleas
To seem overstretched, to redeem out of role
A yeardley once killed is beyond such amends
And measures the spillage while just among friends.

BP, A Wounded Knee To The Nth Degree: A Bozo Ottava Rima Song

Slimy spills of yesterday resume once more
To reconnoiter, with lessons learned again
As hard as pelicans, who in dying bore
DC consumers, across the nation spin
To loiter, while a sweeps month keeps a score
Of catching the anger, why wouldn’t that win?
In stimy thrill, a brown specked tumor might say
Deploy your plumes of damage, and shrink away.

(All Songs On This Web Page Are Copyright ©2009-2010,
Los Bozos Bravos, P.W. Meek, and Gorilla Meek Enterprises,
All Rights Reserved)

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