So dVerse wants everyone to go back in history today. I guess I can do that at my bay. Oh and Brian, Pat has a scar from barbwire too but it is on my left leg at my zoo. Looks like a third eye and that's no lie. Anyway, into the past we go and it's back to 1947 today at my show. For that's when they came or it could have been a weather balloon or something else lame.
It was bright and sunny,
People spent money.
Or was it dark and dank?
Maybe it was a tank?
But on some summer day,
Aliens supposedly came to play.
Roswell, New Mexico got fame,
Because green guys supposedly came.
Or they were grey, blue or red.
Either way they had a big head.
Don't take the bait.
It was a weather balloon.
Or a mutated baboon.
Bah! It was worse than that.
For it was The Bat!
He and Catwoman were out on a date.
No, no no.
It was mutated kids that decided to show.
Stalin fecked with their genetic make up,
Putting something in their cup.
Then they flew planes,
While dreaming of candy canes.
For they wanted to go,
All Orson Welles like his radio show.
Scaring poor Americans into submission.
Who made that stupid admission?
Mutated kids flying planes.
Pffft better off with giraffe eskimos in flying trains.
Time travelers too.
Could have come into view.
That last one was made up by me,
But the rest are stated in history.
I guess the probe doesn't look to silly,
When you got Stalin going all willy nilly.
Then people come out of the woodwork,
With a little smirk.
Saying how they "saw" it.
When most were not near it one bit.
So in 1947,
An angel could have fell from heaven.
Now that was lame,
The cat is snip snip so he has no game.
But we won't go there,
Where was I at my lair?
In 1947 came a crash.
That could have been trash.
Could have been mutated kids,
Apes that flipped their lids.
Or aliens with their probe,
Who are already over the globe.
But one will never know.
Could have been a two headed crow.
As the rumors fly,
By such and such a guy.
Either the government, who lie.
Or some nutball wanting to endorse the Wendy's french fry.
The truth is probably as simple as can be.
But an alien could have fell from its tree.
Ran out of gas,
Crashed in the grass.
Or would that be sand?
Either way we'll never know if it was alien or something bland.
And there was my trip from the hip of a history blip. So get a grip, unless it is a probe coming near then run with fear. Don't grip that. Heed the warning of the cat. Maybe it was a mutated cat flying the craft. Bah! We wouldn't crash like some rift raft. Probably one of those stupid singing bass. Anyway, you've now gone through history with my little rhyming ass.
Fill your rummer, get drunk all summer.