I told them I could paint real fine.
They did not believe me.
They said those paintings weren't mine!
They were trying to deceive me!
I'm Leonardo, yes I am!
I told them with a grin.
And showed my painting to them,
and then they let me in.
It was the Mona Lisa
I painted it, I said.
But they did not believe me
as they strapped me to the bed.
They shipped me off to Richmond
so they could do some tests--
examined all my functions
to figure out this mess.
They stuck me with some needles--
took blood from inside out.
They asked me stupid questions
to learn what I'm about.
They took away my necktie.
They took away my belt.
They gave me a white bracelet
that was made out of felt.
They watched me sleep and watched me eat
and sat me in a chair
and when I mentioned Lisa,
they quick shaved off my hair.
They put a hat upon my head
that looked like leaning Pisa.
And so I asked them one more time
if they liked my Mona Lisa.
I went to the cafeteria,
ate meat loaf and some cake.
I was eating very calmly --
not to make mistakes.
I sat there dipping gravy,
about to take a bite
when soon a tray flew by me!
I saw an awful fight!
Meatloaf started flying
and spinach through the air!
But I just sat there eating.
I really didn't care.
They punched each other in the nose
and threw some spoons and pie.
I ducked and took another bite
and watched the plates fly by.
I finished my first helping,
chairs, tables hit the floor.
Then rose to go get seconds
because I wanted more.
They gave me a pink bracelet
for outside in the sun.
I sat in lovely gardens
alone with everyone.
They gave me a big pill to take
and then a glass of juice.
The sun shone on the daisies.
I was feeling mighty loose.
I looked for Mona Lisa
but she was not around.
I started watching spiders
crawling on the ground.
My name is Leonardo!
I yelled until they heard.
I don't belong in Richmond!
This whole thing is absurd!
They said I would be transferred
to Saint Sophia's ‘Stute.
I asked if Mona could come too.
They said I was a fruit.
Life inside the institute
was pretty strange, but cool.
I'm hoping Saint Sophia's
will have a swimming pool.
aka Leonardo Da Vinci
Justin You got me laughing so hard I almost
could not hold it. Where is Lisa now?
Definitely ”Leo's Lament"
Oh to be institutionalized again.
You're so lucky.
Now Justin Kace
You doubt his rhyme
I know that face
He's Justin Thyme
Who is this guy?
He looks like me!
Comes to my ‘Stute
Pretends to be
The great DaVinci
No one but me
Will give a hoot.
It's plain to see
That he's my twin.
They let him in.
To gain entry
He had to say
He would bring me
My dinner tray.
Meat loaf he caught
As it flew by
With that he got
Sauce from his eye.
And then to my
Bedside he came
It's dinner, Thyme
Justin's the name.
He says that he
Can paint a smile
With just beguile.
It is a myth
He's just a fool
He's happy with
A swimming pool
Here at my ‘Stute
He'll stay as me
I've much to do
Now that I'm free
And they will think
That he is me
I've made”The Last
To Sistene Chapel,
I must go
Because - I'm
OH, c'mon ONE FLEW.... don't jive these
people! You know why this struck your
funny chord, little buddy... you were the
one with the damn flying pizza! I *still*
can't believe they let you outa there. When
nurse Cratchet told me you were getting
released, I almost punched HER in the
nose... you getting out before me???
Unbelievable. And you know where Lisa
is, too! You took that straw and used
some ketchup and mustard and started
painting her a new smile.... you little...
you little.... schizo!
Now, from now on, keep it honest
around here, huh?
Hey Justin, my long lost twin! Paint on,
brotha!! Love the lyric melody but of
course you knew I would..... we be the
best damn lyricists in that ol' ‘Stute!
Listen, though, better be careful 'cause
I heard nurse ratchet is hanging around
These forums posting under some
pseudonym and if she puts two and
two together and comes up with four, your
ass is grass, my friend! ONE FLEW said
she was on to us sneakin' over into the
administrative offices to use their 'puter.
So, keep it easy and light.... watch your
back! Oh, and next time you get on,
send me the URL so I can see that really
cool mural you put up in that church. hose
dummies never believed we could paint!
LOL! You've got one mean brush stroke,
Do you BELIEVE that ONE FLEW meatloaf
slinging dude pretending he didn't know nothin'
about all this? How do you think he got his
name? One meatloaf flew, one fork flew,
one table flew.... geez.
Far be it from me to interfere,
But have either of you seen my ear?
And though I really like your rhyme,
Both Justin Kace and Justin Thyme.
You must speak fast, I must soon go,
For I'm the great Vincent VanGogh.
Hey VanGogh!!! My Main Man!!!
What the heck are YOU doing
over here? Good to see ya, bud!
Oh, but btw, that wasn't your ear, it was
half of your brain. Lobotomy, remember?
Well maybe you don't remember.
Cya in the mind zap line! Hold onto your hat!
Last one zapped me down for a week!
Was that the ear
Belonged to Vince
'Twas in my pie
And not quite minced?
My brother dear
Brought it to me
Caught on the fly
I plainly see
How do you hear
This ‘Stute is mine
You surely know...
I hear just fine Justin Kace,
One ear works just as good as two.
So wipe the smirk off your face.
I have something to share with you.
I know you should be basket weaving,
So I will make this brief, you know.
Cause no one here's really believing
That you are Michelangelo!!!
Now I don't mean to drop the dime
On that brother you hold so dear
But Justin thyme made it just in time,
To save from you my lovely ear.
He switched it with Mona Lisa' big toe,
Said he owed at least this much to you.
I found it oddly strange, even so,
You found it so easy to chew.
So I say now go paint your chapel
I will give you no more slack.
They may have given me the scalpel,
But at least I got my ear back.
You may have gotten your ear back, Vincent,
but half your brain's still missing.... Justin Kace
you hadn't noticed... it was a lobotomy,
remember? Oh yeah, you STILL don't
remember.. LOL... better brush up on
your paint strokes, little buddy.
Oh, what a job the young boy had!
It wasn't very hard
But was a job disdained by all
In that hospital ward.
When they prepped someone for surgery
Before they made a cut
The young boy's job it was to pick
All small hairs from the butt.
It was a necessary task,
Infection to avoid,
But not too glamorous to pick
Those small hairs from that void.
Years later, he discovered that
His talent was quite rare
At taking paints and canvas
Making masterpieces there.
He decided to use a fictitious name
As seemed to be the craze
So he fashioned one from that silly job
Of his old hospital days.
One thing I haven't understood
Although I'm not so dumb,
I must confess I do not know
Where the ”Pablo” came from.
Ok, I was following all of this until this
balladeer dude comes in and writes
some verse I didn't understand. What's
all this have to do with hairs on some
one's butt? I don't get it. Prepping
someone for surgery? A fictitious name
because that's some kind of”craze"?
LOL... sounds CRAZY to me.... hehehe.
Ok, so we got a few nuts around here, but
what's this dude balladeer sneezing about?
Oh, and as far as Pablo is concerned....
damn... he's over there... there he is now..
he's in the ‘Stute here alright, with the rest
of us. Want me to ask him to post something?
Hey, balladeer, little buddy.... you sure
you don't belong in here with us?
Ok, gotta jet.... nurse ratchet's a cratchet
and she's out to get me yet... see some
of you in the cafeteria in the morning.
2 eggs scrambled like your brain.....
hold the fruit.
Pablo, Pablo, there you are,
I have been searching long and far.
For once I had this surgery,
And guess what, 'twas you who prepped me
Now, it's no secret all can see
The scar from the lobotomy.
But even though I've half a brain,
At least what half I have is sane.
This being so, questions lie there,
Why did you remove my butt hair?
I always knew you were schizo,
But do you really think you’re PicASSo?
Hey, Balladeer! What's that you say?
I think you are a NUT!
That isn't true! My last name's real.
It's not a nickname for my butt!
Next time I paint a painting here
inside this institute.
I think I'll paint a painting of
you in your birthday suit!
You seem to be hung up on butts
I think that's sort of strange.
My painting will depict your head
and butt, swapped, interchanged.
Don't mess with me, dear Balladeer!
I'm artiste, yes, first class!
Because you've started rumors here,
your face will be your ***.
Someone here is mistaken
for I have done no faking.
My honesty rings as true
as dry grass meets fallen dew.
You think I changed a smile
with the ketchup from a pile.
Way wrong there my friend
I'll deny this till the end.
I will admit salting days
as I attacked feather lei's.
Nothing else will you have
over me, except a purple Lav.
Just a little pen-prick
This won't hurt a bit
Justin Kace you are sick
How's that jacket fit?
Made from ”fine Corinthian leather"
Stitched by Ricardo Montalban
When you're feeling under the weather
We'll let you try it on
The buckles of patina, green
Hand made by Juan Valdez
When he's not picking coffee beans
A least that's what he says
The leather straps so sturdy
Hold you in their embrace
For when you get too wordy
Justin Thyme or Justin Kace
Though the canvas isn't painted
It was woven by VanGogh
If this assertion you think tainted
Ask him, he'll say so
And those baskets that you're weaving
Are the cause of Lisa's smile
But I'm afraid I must be leaving
To make my rounds takes quite a while
Hiya Doc! How in the heck did you know
where to find us all? You're really somethin'
else for sure, dude! Hey, keep this under
your hat, ok? You're not going to get us in
any trouble over this are you? After all, we
can't help it, really we can't. We're NUTS!
mwahahahaha! Whatever you do, I warn
you, if nurse ratchet finds out, you're in just
as much trouble as we are so.... hehehe...
I just know you'll keep a lid on it.
Hey, out on your rounds, do me a favor, huh?
Tell Pablo I thought his poem was wicked
kewl! Trading a head for a balladeer butt...
Whew..... I got another whole section done
on the Sistene today..... OMiGod...... I just
had another hallucination.... I was sure I
saw a Moose in doctor's scrubs go by
Well it's come to my attention
There's something strange going on here.
Yeah, everything was going smooth,
And then comes along Balladeer.
Spreading vicious rumors,
About poor 'ol pablo.
Now pablo's peeved and we're all grieved,
He's too busy painting the chapel,
Bet he doesn't even know
Lisa's back with Leonardo,
Albeit without her toe.
There was even a drive by
By good ol' Desperado.
And I even got my ear back,
I, the great Vincent VanGogh.
Now what I find so strange here,
'Tis a fact we all well know.
Only the truly great artist
Have names that end in O.
So what is he trying to pull,
This sneaky Balladeer?
Me thinks it to be mutiny,
The moose is in on it, I fear.
I saw him taking rounds with Ratchet.
A repulsive thought, I can't refute.
Yeah, it's plain to me, he longs to be
Balladeer, King of the ‘Stute.
How long did you think it would take me
to find you? I have my spies you know.
Problem is I found you here on this board,
but somehow your escaping me over here.
I will find your buddy Balladeer, and get
him to spill the beans on where you are. I
will find you just wait, and then I shall
paddle you down the river!
Hey, Pablo, threaten if you will.
It really doesn't matter.
Who knows what you paint anyway?
You just make colors splatter.
I didn't mean to spill the beans
About how you got your name
But what's the diff? Nobody cares
You're third-rate, just the same.
So bring it on. I wait with glee
You washed-up romeo.
I'd like to chat but I must help
Old Vince make his van go.
Hey! Balladeer! You listen up!
Insult me. Go ahead!
Haha, your words roll off my back!
They make me laugh, instead.
No, I'm not laughing at your wit,
I'm laughing at your ass
'cause here comes big bad Nurse Cratchet,
who tolerates no sass.
She's wielding a big needle for your
big bold blatant butt!
She'll get you soon, my loco friend
because you are a NUT!
You are no king, you are no prince,
no painter like the rest.
In fact, dear sir, you soon will wince...
and Cratchet's stab's the test.
You see, she'll look for Balladeer
in Michelangelo's van
and when the jump start's getting near,
She'll shout out, ”There's my man!"
She'll see you bend beneath the hood--
aim her needle toward your head,
because your butt's been swapped for you,
it's now your head, instead!
You see, although you think I paint
with splash of paint, by feel--
I really paint reality,
yep, what I paint's soon real!
So when I tell you that your crown
has fallen off your head...
Just look behind you, then look down,
it's on your butt, instead!
Haha, you thought your comments 'bout
my last name were real cute!
Haha, watch out, my witty friend,
this is an ARTIST's ‘Stute.
It wasn't hard to find you guys, though Jimi and Walt tried to spoof me.
They sent me to Pluto by dragonfly, I took the bus to Goofy.
And here we are a lovely bunch, bananas everywhere.
I walked to school and brought my lunch, so Hey!, don't touch me there!
Wow! that Ratchet's hands are cold, I like the color blue.
All is going according to plan, there's so much here to do!
I can alphabetize and prioritize, to my hearts content.
Which might be why I'm ”tutionalized', who signed that darn consent?
Hmmm... I find this by it's nature queer,
though I've got rounds to do.
Even the poems are schizoid here,
I must try to think this through.
Dr. MOOSE!!!! I didn't recognize you! I
thought you were that new dude Cratchet
hired.... damn! nope, it's YOU, alright! How
you been, buddy? I haven't seen you since
St. Elizabeth's! (Remember when you broke
into the lab and got all that extra Prozac?
LOL... you were OUT there, buddy boy!
You better watch out for that kinda thing
Over here. Crachet will eat you alive!)
hehehe... but if you're looking for a ”patient",
try that dude, balladeer. He doesn't even
know he's in the ‘Stute! He'll never be able
to follow your ”credentials"... hehehe... just
tell him all the ‘Stutes you've been
at and he'll bend over for a shot!
for the laugh, big moose. LOL
I did not eat that Toe last night
Nor chewed on VanGogh's ear
Instead I called on Balladeer
And told him of my plight
I said this dinner's really bad
I wouldn't eat it so -
Tough Toenails Michelangelo
You're really all quite mad...
While Doctor Moose was doing rounds
Deer got there Justin Thyme
To save the day for Justin Kace
As amputees abound...
While in this ‘Stute don't ever nag -
Just look at Pablo's butt
This Toe will rot - For off it's cut
Let's wrap it in a rag...
We got the rag - the Toe inside
So Vince would never know -
But please don't fret - I know that Toe
Rag's in formaldehyde....
I'm going to the garden
to weave a little bit.
You all are basket-KACES.
I think you all are LIT.
(hey, Leonardo! I hear there's an ”ool” at
St. Sophia's.... no”p”in it... hehehe)
I really must confess, I'm not in on this with Ratchet.
Just 'cause I do ”knee jerk tests”, with my rubber hatchet.
I only took this job here, at the Institute,
to deal with some personal fears, that I have of ”mixed fruit”!
Those and missing body parts, and paintings on the ceiling.
As a student of the arts, I find these most revealing.
Why... as I remarked to Dorothy, just the other day,
We're not in Kansas anymore you see,
( which blew her right away ).
Justin Kace you see me, while my rounds I make.
Think it not conspiracy, with Ratchet that old fake.
She'll be causing me no trouble, I know this for a fact.
I can burst her little bubble, now I've wised- up to her act.
I caught her in the west wing, popping pills like they were candy.
Pablo painted everything, so I got proof, which comes in handy.
But keep this under your paper hat, about old Ratchet's thieving.
We can't let her get wind of that, or the grounds I will be leaving!
I seemed to have caught a breeze
blowing in a mighty nasty sneeze
why Dr. Moose is spreading germs
amongst our famous wacky worms
Nurse Crachet's here to protect
my nieve worms from neglect
I know my worms love me so
and that is why I let them grow
herbal plants on window sills
to chase away their evil chills
so Dr. Moose you best beware
germs you spread may be rare
but I have defenses at hand
that make oreo cookies bland.
You don't scare me Cratchet, I'm hip to your game,
I broke out of this place, find me by my name!
There they all are - I've been looking
Justin All The Wrong Places