I once met a man
Who could crush a beer can
With only the front of his forehead
And he'd found a way
To derive his pay
From writing songs about such things
And while others endeavored
To highlight their labors and ways
There was no how dee doo
In his blatant how to
He merely grunted out his success story
To us at the seminar

At the meet and greet
I noticed his feet
Were bare and apelike
And as he took the pen
I trembled within to see that
His thumbs were just almost opposable

And then I knew what was wrong
With all the songs coming out of Nashville right now.

-jenn