Who else but HE could walk the moon And dance with hair aflame’s? Who else but HE could sing a tune HIS voice a sexy dame’s?
HE lived the life of Peter Pan HIS life HE filled with toys. Shared HIS home with Chimpanzees And HIS bed with grade-school boys.	Who else but HE could rock a mask Before twas hip with SARs? Who else but HE could even ask For a dance that grabs "cigars?"
Against genetics most of us Are impotent and flaccid. But HE triumphed all HIS life Over HIS nucleic acid.	In the sunset of HIS singing, In the twilight above all, HIS esteemed and holy highness Said yes to propofol.
Expunging family from his face And their stink from in his nose HE cut away the human race And far above HE rose.	And in HIS death the curtains rose On a torrent of hippo-poos. The endless, pointless specials That masquerade as news.
HE must have come from stars above Thought fans for all it’s worth. HIS whole brood looked all alike, Yet like no one else on earth.	We want to wish HIM fairy-well, Send him off with reaper grim. But fans’ll never ease their grip Like on the KING before HIM.
	Aloyts © 2009