These people needed him to like them.
He didn’t, and he told them so.
They’d call him mean and nasty.
He’d have to stop them with whoa, whoa, whoa!
His eyebrows bushed as if they’d pushed
A hairy button nobody saw.
He’d look ’em square,
Right in the peepers.
Grip ’em by the shoulders with his gaze.
He’d gruff as he cleared their soul out.
If there’s a game I’m the first one playin’!
Thank you, friend.