Happy Thanksgiving, to all in the family,
May your tables overflow with succulent food,
While we give thanks, for this day, and being together,
And remembering our brother, Heathen Dude.
When we weren’t many, we shared the land,
Those centuries ago, in a high-spirited mood,
We were brought together, with treasures we stewed,
And started a tradition, with you, Heathen Dude.
But we needed more land as our numbers grew,
You lived in teepees, we had forests to hew,
Then you banded together, started to collude,
Planning retribution, vowing not to be screwed,
With feather headdress, you charged at us half-nude,
We were Quakers, proper and prim,
Witnessing crazy people, dangerously wild and lewd,
Yes, things got aggressive, brother Heathen Dude.
We had hoped you would realize,
Our intentions as not rude,
Yet we could not glean from the native tongue,
What you were trying to allude,
While some admired you, your love of land,
We remained petrified of the sounds you mewed,
And blinded by what we saw as crude,
So we had to run you out, Heathen Dude.
It’s a long time over,
Our long-time feud,
So wherever we are,
By ourselves or with a brood,
While we over-consume,
with thoughts of calories eschewed,
Let’s give thanks and a toast,
With whatever is brewed,
And salute to all we’ve wooed,
Including our brother, Heathen Dude.