CATAPULTS
Now old Chuck Jones was driving out
One hot and dusty day,
And on a ridge he rested
With a map to find his way
When all at once a starving streak
Of scrawny brown’d he see,
A-running like his tail’s on fire—
Which in fact it seemed to be.

Bebeep they go,
Bebeep they say,
Roadrunners in the sky.

Coyote was the Trickster
And he found the red men fun.
It left them unprepared for change,
So now he has to run
Behind a gustatory treat
Whose taste he’s never known.
The landless red men cursed him so,
And on the wind they drone:

Bebeep they go,
Bebeep they say,
Roadrunners in the sky.

Now if he’s got a rocket sled
You’ll want to hit the dirt.
There isn’t any need to, though,
‘Cause no one else gets hurt.
But if he stops to look around
Then standing right behind
This hapless fool you’ll see a bird
With one thing on his mind.

Bebeep they go,
Bebeep they say,
Roadrunners in the sky.

His plumes are purple teflon,
His toenails made of krell
And he’s the bait and warden of
The Trickster’s private Hell.
The best Leg Muscle Vitamins
Won’t get through armor plate;
If there’s an Indestructo Ball,
The trains are never late.

Bebeep they go,
Bebeep they say,
Roadrunners in the sky.

His face is drawn, his eyes are blurred
His fur is soaked with sweat.
One day he’s gonna catch that bird
But he ain’t caught him yet.
Coyote, change your ways today
Or once again you’ll fly,
For we’ve read Acme’s warranty,
And we know it is a lie.

Bebeep they go,
Bebeep they say,
Roast Wile E. in the sky.

Matthew Joseph Harrington
September 20, 2007, 8:14 AM