When flipping through the Rolodex of History,
Men whose claim to fame can't be denied,
Some say the way they got there is a mystery.
I say, though, the way is cut and dried.
To make a name you need a Proper Name.
To prove it let us play a little game.
The file with Casanova's name you found,
He who starts out with such a name is blessed.
It looks so smart, makes such a lovely sound,
To see and hear it is to be impressed.
It's great to see the way he wears his fame,
And it's a shame more Greats can't say the same.
It's clear, or ought to be, a name's not everything
To name a puppy Rex don't mean he'll be a King,
You hear the name and see the face, combine
The two into The Man, then stand and wait.
Would that he had a birthmark or some other sign
To show he had been born to be a Great.
Would Manson be the star he grew into
If he instead of Charles had been named Sue?
The key, I say, to greatness is the name.
Another case in point is McVeigh.
Let's take a look and see from whence he came,
The place where he first saw the light of day.
Could Lockport be the cause? Could Central Casting?
No, the face don't count, the name is everlasting.
Worth it too, no matter who they screw
To see their precious name light up the sky.
We'd not know them, they'd miss out on their due
Without the name we learned to know them by.
What if he had been sired by a man
Not named Capone, a son of Other Than?
That is to say one with another name.
The good guy Ness, to justify his crew,
Would not have had a choice but to blame,
Instead of Al Capone, a boy named Sue!
And Henry, he who claimed and named the Bay,
He saw a river, named it Hudson too.
He met his Fate and never found his way
Back home. It may have caused his Mom to rue
The day she named her baby Hank. She may
Have thought, 'If only I had named him Sue.'
And Nelson too, whose stroll across the stage
Stole any scene, would any other name
Except Mandela in that day and age
Have changed the old to what the new became?
Goliath was a giant nine feet tall and bad.
He, being small, the name was all he had.
DeKlerk and Gorbachev, give credit where it's due.
Together and apart they changed a State or two.
The both of them became the cause, the face,
The name of change. Both chose to end a State
That could not last, both freed a subject race
And earned themselves a place amongst the Great.
Or take the man named Cooper, he who jumped
From thirty thousand feet by parachute,
Then disappeared to God knows where. he dumped
His backpack filled with unmarked bills, the loot
He got for being smarter than your average bear,
To scatter on the wind for all to share.
About that time somebody fell to earth
And washed up on the beach beside a river
With a well known name, which at its birth
Was named the Snake, but when the tiny sliver
Grew into a mighty stream, by night
Some thieves broke through and changed the name for spite.
Then there's this guy goes by the name of Chris.
He's got a famous name; you hear it lots.
The river we just crossed reminded me of this;
It's named for him, and towns, a country, yachts.
It well may be he don't deserve his fame,
It may be time he got his share of blame,
Along with Ferdinand and Isabella.
If they had seen fit to send the fella
Packing, they'd have saved a hemisphere
From being sacked and burned, a race of kin
He found, enslaved and hounded them to near
Extinction, giving nothing in exchange save Sin.
2012 mar 28 29 30 31 apr 1 2 3 Aug 8 9 thu d fulgham