Listen my Tweetlings, I shot a deer,
While doing my research on Paul Revere.
Around the time they do that big Boston run,
This guy named Paul he shot off his gun,
Or rang his bell or beat on his pan,
(Those Revereware sets, I’m a big fan!)
The British elite were coming around.
He let them know they weren’t welcome in town!
With their taxes on Main Street for The Average Joe,
Paul made lots of noise, he let them know.
That Paul Revere, he wasn’t dumb.
He had a guy tell him where the Brits would come from.
Don’t make it secret, keep it simple as tea.
One if by land and two if by sea.
The British will get it , DON’T MESS WITH ME!
Paul saw the light in God’s holy church
It told him to leave his elected office in the lurch
Through Middlesex & Sussex, went Paul and his horse.
Because he was married he could have intercourse.
He had a message and he had to be heard.
Fact checking at this point would be quite absurd.
Soon my old emails will be revealed,
They’ll show a kindred spirit, with a mind thick as steel.
I urge you to join me in my top secret ride.
The horsewoman of the apocalypse, bringing in the red tide!
This written at the request of my sister Beth who sent me the whole Longfellow shebang.