Let my people go-go
I saw your hymn residing gracefully
among hidden tambourines.
Butterscotch snakes and mind spiders
saluted you in the morning.
Your missing cult traveled early miles
just to glance at your flaming majesty.
You and your hymn fought a whiskey fight
for the honor of my hand, and I
gratefully thanked you for doing your duty,
and for letting my people go-go
as my happy Hittite hotshots
played their riotous tunes
of harmonious musicality.
May I have this dance?