When the sun went out,
and the sky turned black,
I climbed the tallest tree
to reach for the hand of God.
The hand was leathery and callused
from years of landscaping work.
He explained:
Did you not hear what Nietzche claimed
many years ago? Gott is tot!
From now on South America
and North America are united.
If your Presidente needs a job,
he can mow my lawn, and
clean out my clogged gutters.
Adios, hasta luego!