The Bubbafly
Walking in a southern field
watching the butterflies,
totally at peace, unprepared
when I got a sudden surprise.
It was a most American bug,
with wings red, white, and blue.
It had a tiny red neck
and a tiny "beer gut" too.
"Well, whaddaya want?"
the creature asked,
interpreting my stare.
"That nectar stuff's
pure sugar; a bug
hasnt got a prayer."
With that the fellow
scratched and belched,
then looked me in the eye.
"Pleased to meet ya.
Names Buggy Joe Bob,
and Im a Bubbafly."
"Id chat a spell
but I gotta find some
food around this dump."
So he flew away.
It was then I noticed
tiny stars upon his rump.
Walking in a southern field
watching the butterflies,
totally at peace, unprepared
when I got a sudden surprise.
It was a most American bug,
with wings red, white, and blue.
It had a tiny red neck
and a tiny "beer gut" too.
"Well, whaddaya want?"
the creature asked,
interpreting my stare.
"That nectar stuff's
pure sugar; a bug
hasnt got a prayer."
With that the fellow
scratched and belched,
then looked me in the eye.
"Pleased to meet ya.
Names Buggy Joe Bob,
and Im a Bubbafly."
"Id chat a spell
but I gotta find some
food around this dump."
So he flew away.
It was then I noticed
tiny stars upon his rump.
