The Tears of a White Woman
The Tears of a Clown – Vocals, by Ms. Hilary Clinton.
Tears that might have won her the precious presidential nomination.
The tears of a white woman – as opposed to the Tears of a Clown – where ain’t no mountain, nor no polling deficit high enough.
These tricksters will pull out all the stops.
Here is Bill Clinton heading into Ron Brown’s funeral. Watch carefully…
Yep, he loves black people about as much as the fox loves the chicken gizzard. The fox will say anything to get you on his plate and make you his… or her meal.
The Tears of a White Woman are the greatest weapon this side of a knitted rope. Ask Emmit Till and a thousand other black men rotting on the vine, how strong them beige tears can be.
Heading into political oblivion, my white sister went to the well, literally bathing her face in water from her political makeup kit.
And one mo’ thang (said in my most Obamanesque lingua negra): Polling appears to be used to keep fools on that psychofragilistic-rollercoaster – what’s gonna happen, fuckin’ wit dem expectations and high hopes and then dashing them on the rocks like dem Spanish Conquistadores. They tell you Obama was up by double digits. You believe it, of course; then you are shocked, shocked when it doesn’t come out the way they told you it was ‘sposed to. Did they play you, so you’d be surprised/disappointed? Hmm. They play ya any other night of the year – why would this be different?!
Hell, this is the Oscars of manipulative, missionary mind control: another state, another dog fight, South Carolina here we come, Round 3, a fucking choreographed puppet’s dance – only you are the puppet. Dance muthafucka, dance!
Follow the bouncing ball while they rifle through your cranium, stealing your lint, coin, brain cells, vote.