When you were small and had real hair,
And being lonely had no end,
You wished and wished and there he was:
Your so-much-longed-for secret friend.

Unlike your parents, distant folk,
Your friend was always there for you
And said, “Good job!” and “I’m so proud!”
When you’d tell him the things you’d do.

But, unlike secret friends for boys
Who grow away, no longer care,
Or find real friends as they mature,
Your secret friend was always there.

Sometimes he sounded just like you
But used a different name to call
The papers, leaking words of praise
And no one guessed—he fooled them all!

But, even with a different voice
and even with a different name
His thoughts, opinions, points of view
Were comfortingly just the same:

“The greatest speaker! Realty king!
A genius! Really, really smart!
So funny, too! And who would say
That you don’t have the biggest heart?

And when it comes to women, well,
You, donny, know you can be fussy
Since every chick gives in to you
When you approach them through the pussy.”

So through three weddings, kids, and deals,
Right there he was—to gently ease
Your mind when troubled with the press
Of six successive bankruptcies.

And all day long and every day,
You feel him now, when times are grim.
He is the rock on which you found
Your life, your secret buddy, Jim.


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