Twas the night before execution
And right on Death Row
Little Tookie had insomnia
He knew he was next to go.
“I’m innocent! I swear!”
Was Tookie’s recurrent claim
(100% of inmates polled said the same).
He’d just about finished taking his evening crap
After which he’d lie down for his last voluntary nap.
Then out in the courtyard he heard quite a roar
He sprang from his seatless toilet to try and learn more
As he gazed out his barred window he saw quite a scene
A gathering of stars like he’d never seen.
Cameras and microphones, oh what a sight!
By the looks of the crowd it could have been Oscar night!
There was Dreyfuss and Danson, Mike Farrell looked snazzy.
(All right maybe not “Oscar”, but at very least “Razzie”)
“Free Tookie!” they cried.
“He’s a convicted killer!” Arnold shot back.
“Yeah… well… that’s not his fault.
He was born poor and black.”
They protested quite fiercely as elitists can
When defending a murderer (his victims be damned).
But Arnold held firm and gave the thumbs down
The Hollywooders finally left with a collective frown.
Tookie stepped back from the window, resignation in his eyes
And thought-“Damn. A little more time I’d have nabbed the Nobel Peace Prize!”
There is one bright spot for Tookie as he nears his end of days
His t-shirt is finally outselling Che’s.
(h/t The Nose On Your Face)