Author Unknown

THE SWINE THAT STOLE NEW YORK

Everyone in New York liked their city a lot,
But the Swine from the East thought they all should be shot;
He hated them all in his satanic way,
Now, don’t ask me why, for nobody can say.
It could be his turban was wound up too tight,
It could be that Allah said all was not right;
But I think the most likely reason of all,
May have been that his brain was ten sizes too small.

But whatever the reason, his Allah or turban,
He hated the U.S., and all that was urban;
“They’re doing their business!” he oinked from his cave,
“They’re calling their country ‘The Home of The Brave!’
They’re leading the world. Their economy’s thriving;
I must keep New York and U.S. from surviving!”
Tomorrow he knew all the folks in that town,
Would have no idea he could knock buildings down.

They’d go to their office, their playgrounds, and schools,
And abide by their country’s good values and rules;
And then they’ll do something he liked least of all,
Everyone in that city, the tall, and the small;
Would stand there united, like the “U” in “U.S.,”
And they’d each sing their anthem; “God Bless us! God Bless!”
And around the twin towers of New York they’d stand,
As each sang his praise to this wonderful land.

“I must stop their rejoicing,” said Swine with a smirk,
And he had an idea – an idea that might work;
His pig would steal planes, in the wee morning hours,
And crash them right into that city’s twin towers.
“To convince them they’re martyrs,” he said, “The right touch,
With seventy sows who are virgins and such”;
But those who crashed planes were most surely misled,
They now dwell with Satan, in the land of the dead.

“They’ll wake to disaster!” Swine grunted with glee,
“How can they rejoice, when just rubble they’ll see?”
The Swine watched the news, as they rose from their sleeping,
And listened to hear all the wailing and weeping.
Instead, he heard something that started quite low,
It built up quite slow, and then it started to grow;
And that Swine heard the most unpredictable sound,
He couldn’t believe how it all turned around.

He watched the world’s newscasts, not trusting his eyes,
And witnessed a shocking, disgusting surprise;
Everyone in that city, the tall and the small,
Was working and helping, with no towers at all.
He had stirred up their anger. He’d have hell to pay,
For all would avenge Swine’s folly that day;
And he hadn’t stopped people from singing. They sung,
From deep in the hearts of the old and the young.

The towers were standing, called Hope and called Pride;
He couldn’t smash towers each holds deep inside;
So each circles the site where those towers did fall,
With a hand in each hand of the tall and the small.
And each mourns his losses, while knowing we’ll cope,
For they all have inside those twin towers of hope;
And the war he has started will be the Swine’s last,
Since back in September, the die has been cast.

Now liberty’s forces will even the score,
And the Swine will dwell always in hell, evermore