I'm like Nixon
I love the beach.
I'm like Nixon
I walk in wingtips.
I'm like Nixon
Because I like him.
He's not Ike
But what's not to like.
Who will go drive with Fergus now, And pierce the deep wood's woven shade, And dance upon the level shore? Young man, lift up your russet brow, And lift your tender eyelids, maid, And brood on hopes and fear no more. And no more turn aside and brood Upon love's bitter mystery; For Fergus rules the brazen cars, And rules the shadows of the wood, And the white breast of the dim sea And all dishevelled wandering stars.

The Crack Emcee will never forget when he met his favorite Dick when his brother Willis took him to get authographs at the Beverly Wilshire hotel.

