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

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