The Ends: Weekends, Loose Ends, Tight Ends and Dead ends.

This blog writer's altered ego, Plane Brown, has released his first hip hop album/CD, "Plane Brown, Rapper." It has gone not Platinum, nor Gold but Lead. It's sold in the high two digits, (but has a half-life of 1.9×10¹⁹ years). He has favored us with his new song about the health care crisis--"Unhealthy Skeptic."

UNHEALTHY SKEPTIC

Sittin in an old chair
Freezin in the cold air
In my underwear
Got to wonder where
I get some health care.
No one with wealth'll share.
They say "We paid for yer day care"
Now move somewhere
With universal health care.

So I'm cooking on a hot plate
Sittin' with my soul mate
Thinkin' 'bout my prostate,
Puttin on a lotta weight
Knowin' I don't gotta date
With some guy with a doctorate
To tell me 'bout my body's fate.


Been to the job fair
Here's what I got ta share
My persona ain't grata there
Laid my sole bare
Bitchin' to an ole mare--
A witch outta a cold lair--

I'll tell you what she said there:
"Boy you gotta lead pair
You ain't gotta said prayer--
So get outta my red hair."
It was enuff to make the dead swear.

Hopin' that Obama
Will get health care for my momma
And make it universal
So if I go to a rehearsal
And suffer some reversal
And damage all my bursa I'll
Not wind up in a hearse I'll
Get some medication
From the health plan for the nation
And end my aggravation
From my discombobulation
Cause I'm runnin outta patience.


That's what I gotta share.
Don't get a lotta care
All I got is swear and tear.
Gotta give myself care
If I want some health care
Sittin in an old chair
Freezing in the cold air
Weezin with my bottom bare.