Road-trippin'

Road-trippin’ with good old Honest Abe,
we speed on Century Highway in the USA.
He spots the mushroom gate of exit 1945,
decides to see how the West has thrived.

Little boys throw stones at President Truman.
Abe is shocked, says they aren’t human.
Fat men punch Robert Oppenheimer.
Both weep blood and cough fire.

The sky turns rainbow as we enter California.
John and Paul sing as George smokes marijuana.
Ringo plays the drums for olive-carrying doves.
Come together, all you need is love.

Skyscrapers start falling as we hit the East Coast.
Subways turn into caves, two trade towers to toast.
President Bush consoles the population.
Razes markets with mosques, eases CNN’s frustration.

Go to Chicago for the NBA, see only white players.
Wearing silicon crowns, all of them kiss their lawyers.
Page, Gates, Musk and Zuck dribble secrets and cry foul.
Jobs dunks the planet and grins. Lisa can’t pay for school.

No car survives the drive over Detroit Bridge, I tell Abe.
Kim, Debbie, Stan, and Matt gave Marshall brain damage.
We see him crying over his daughter’s dead body,
choking women who all scream love for Shady.

Abe’s had it now, says he can’t handle it anymore.
I tell him there’s a city in Nevada where spirits soar.
So we go, him and I, to sinful Las Vegas.
President Donald shoots both of us.