To yonder Yellow Sea did soon
Korea’s missiles pierce the moon,
As if from jugs of potent brew,
Their message in each missile strew.
The U.S. ladies, strong and free
Did trounce Vietnam, three to tee,
Like heavy draughts, each goal they poured
Yet left many a chance ignored.
From God's vast orchard comes an ill,
Our fruit now sweeter still and still,
A goblet that did once hold cheer,
Now filled with too-sweet cider, dear.
