He´s a wacko and a screamer.
He´s a fruitcake and a nut.

He´s a twisted-headed dreamer
with a riot in his gut.

He´s a feverish guerilla
with a bomb inside his head.
He´s a dangerous gorilla,
and his eyes are glowing red.

He´s an overripe banana.
He´s a nightmare-looking freak.
Ask the folks of Santa Ana
whom he pesters every week.

Once they dragged him off unconscious
to the San Diego Zoo,
where he sat upon his haunches
making all the tourists boo.

He embarrasses the nation,
and he frightens the D.A.,

But his loyal congregation
prays to God that he's OK.

He has many faithful callers
to his Sunday morning spree.

You should hear the way he hollers
(though it ain´t my cup of tea).

If you pass through Santa Ana
and you hear a gruesome noise,
it´s most likely the banana
and his penetrating voice.

He´s a hellfire-brimstone monster
with a dingy-looking car.
All he needs is some sharp sponsor
who can make him to a star.

He´s a reckless, crude disaster
when he roams around his town.
Every heart is beating faster
when he growls just like a hound.

He could scare a million sinners
into sending him their cash.
He could join the mighty winners
and build mansions with his stash.

It´s both vital and essential
with such thunder-cracking flair
that to realize his potential,
they should put him on the air!

- Tarjei Straume, Los Angeles 1982



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