Congratulations, NRA, your tenacity in standing your ground and relinquishing not an inch of obstinacy in the face of the most horrendous, senseless, peacetime slaughter of children, women and men going about their daily lives, in such a constant, ominous drumbeat, can now be adjudged a resounding success..
Despite the efforts of certain local governments throughout the U.S. to deal with the proliferation and easy accessibility of firearms, the NRA, with the gonads (and female equivalents) of our national leaders more safely stowed away than are our school children, cam now proclaim itself as the first unconstitutionally imposed vicar of the temporally ill-applied, sacred Second Amendment.
After the Las Vegas Homo sapiens-shoot, and what seemed to be the last straw-eloquence of the students in Parkland, Florida, it appeared the nation had reached an unalterable level of impatience with the NRA and its treasured testicles, et alia. But, no. The obvious reaction to the recent Parkland-similar shooting, just southeast of Houston, Texas, shows that we have reached the NRA-hoped for level of, “Ho-hum” to these recurrent outrages.
A personal indication of this is, after Parkland, Florida, I was moved enough to write the following song lyrics. However, in the wake of the recent Houston massacre, it has become clear that the NRA’s impregnable “Cajón” of “Cojones” yet stands inviolate. In response, imprisoned in the ennui of, “Ho-hum,” all I can do is meekly print below my then-staunch reaction to the Parkland affair:
ENOUGH!
(Dedicated to the students of the Marjorie Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida)
By Curtis W. Long
Enough, enough…
Good wishes and fervent prayers.
Enough, enough…
Well-funded N.R.A. airs.
Enough, enough…
Bent bodies and gory halls.
Enough, enough…
Stunned parents – their stricken calls.
Too many have died,
Too many have lied.
It’s time to let it drop.
There’s been too much pain,
There’s nothing to gain.
The sham has got to stop.
Enough, enough…
Politicos’ empty speech.
Enough, enough…
Blood money for those who preach.
Enough, enough…
We’re not killed by hot-cross buns.
Enough, enough…
We’re talkin’ here deadly guns.
So, let ‘em all know
The end of the show
Takes place right here and now.
If they want our vote,
They’ll get on our boat.
To no one will be bow.
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