Bad Poetry to Welcome the Wee Foreign Minister
Hark! The Naked Villains Sing
Welcome to the wee little thing
Born to conservative gun nut vile
A promising lad, a wee new child
A boy who will surely be
Terror to his daddy
Like his dad, true not fake
Bottle-rocket guns will make
From his Dad the wee boy learns
Napalm in the front yard burns
Boys will be boys, that’s not far wrong
But before I cease to sing this song
If I don’t warn, remiss I’ll be
Keep him away from Emilie!
Or there will be a sad end to this tale
Smallholder doesn’t mind going back to jail
Congratulations, Greg. We are so happy for you!
