AMERICA’S WORST FEARS
Mostly, we fear ourselves.
Mostly, we fear ourselves.
I was born in nineteen-seventy-fat.
It’s as identifiable as a fingerprint.
The guy who let bees sting him won big.
A molecular sensor that fits in the palm of your hand.
You mite not want to tuck in those sheets.
Sorry, Mandarin.
By the original composer, Dick Wagner.
The Ford Mustang.
Uff da,