I don't know about those fakers, and race car drivers, and Broadway writers, and the LA LAKERS, but I ... and I ALONE, still on the phone, with tech support, oh LORT, am the REAL DAN FUCKING SULLIVAN.
Sure, there are pungo-freaks in ALASKA who claim this crown. Don't frown, don't tear your gown, go underground, join my TEAM and our banners will gleam.
BECAUSE ...
I am the DAN SULLIVAN, I am the force to be reckoned with, I am your HOBO KING, I own all the bling.
I was raised by CATS, like furry brats, we ate feral hog, we lived in a log, our dogs lived in caves, they went to raves, they ate monkey soup, and then they would poop.
I am Dan Sullivan.
The REAL DAN SULLIVAN.
My heart is aglow, so all the birds know, I am DAN. I will scan, the heavens and the EARTH, to find men of worth, because I am DAN, and I ran, I ran down the street, I ran to my own beat, the treats I would get, the rooms I would let, the homes I would burn, like yuppie BRUCE DERN, I am DAN.
I own your butt. I own your beard. It's so weird. I am DAN SULLIVAN.
I flew the last jet. I played the last bet. The SUN will never set on, DAN SULLIVAN.
It is me. You can smile to the sky, for someday you will die, I am DAN SULLIVAN.
It is written. It is told. So BE BOLD and BURN YOUR URN!
Don't turn away, don't feel betrayed, your lands will be free someday.
Don't stop the fight, make haste tonight, chase down the ghosts, they know the most.
I am Dan Sullivan, I am the turtle priest, I have so much yeast, I'll brew up a feast, and then we can forget, we can heal, we can kneel before the HOUNDS, that live underground.
I am Dan Sullivan. I am Dan Sullivan. I am Dan Sullivan.
