"Having a werewolf pet"
Way middle down in Tennessee,
Where country music don't sing about true, American victory,
Hiding behind the strict corners of the flag,
Not knowing: the shimmering stars and lambent stripes give larger brag;
Alas, my pet werewolf stole my bone;
Thus, I hunt for America in the inhuman woods alone,
Finding my crop, and hunting the swift, Canadian goose
To bring back to my werewolf--I never let him loose.
Or is it me?
Duh, I'm so unaware of my dualistic destiny.
