Elon

Elon thinks that he should wear a crown…
he’s greater than Jesus, and he has more fame.
Believes he’s made Fremont into a Nazareth town.

Elon really likes his money,
but that ain’t Jesus’ way.
His debts are mounting—
maybe he’ll turn a profit one day?

He ain’t poor…no pauper;
inflated stock pays and pays.
He is doing fine…
tells his workers that they’d better come
in to work and get there right away.

The guy’s name is Elon,
and he is not a good man.
Yes, his name is Elon.
And he seems much more like a hood man.
When he gets his creep on,
He shows, he’s got a bad plan…
workers close breathin’.

Elon’s a cartoonish buffoon clown.
His business don’t really thrive.
Gotta make a profit some day—
VC money keeps his firm alive.
He’s schemin’ while taxpayers he’s reamin’,
’cause Elon is just that kind.
Taxpayers and VC bailing
him out each time that Elon cries.

He’s a boor and a poseur;
he likes to smoke dope and bray.
Other times, he whines.
Virtual godhead, the chosen one,
Elon is sucking his thumb today.

The guy’s name is Elon—
of a not-good man, a fan.
That man’s also schemin’
Elon’s nose all the way up his cheeks’ span,
after he is kneelin’.
Bad-man fan of a bad man.
And both are stealin’,
both lacking reason.