Round 5: Will the Real Sonny Liston Please Fall Down

Friends, Romans, Countrymen, lend me your ears

I come to bury Liston, not to praise him

I'm going to fight Sonny Liston

That is, if he doesn't chicken out

I will win that fight, because I am president of the boxing world

And this fist is my veto

I am the greatest

Mr. Liston is an old man

He's 30 years old

He has no business being in the same ring with me

I'd like to help that poor old man

I want to give him lessons

Boxing lessons, talking lessons

I'll teach him anything

But since he's going to fight me

What he needs most is falling lessons

He can't fight, I watched him shadow boxing

And his shadow won, in the first round

And then he has the nerve to say to the newspapers

That I need respect knocked into me

When it was him who was disrespectful to me

He says I'm cocky, when it was he who has the

Nerve to think he belongs in the same ring with me

He should be ashamed of himself

I can picture my fight with old man Liston

I will step into the ring looking like a beautiful movie star

And for the first six rounds, I'll go pop pop pop

And dance away so fast, Liston will think he's surrounded

And then I'm really gonna start swinging

And I'm gonna get angry

And I hear a voice saying

Control yourself

Sure you've got a headache

You're tired and irritable

But that's no reason to take it out on poor old Sonny

After, after I finish with old Mr. Liston

The President is going to send out a proclamation

And Liston's jaw will be declared a disaster area

My only regret is, I won't be able to be at ringside

Giving a blow by blow description of the 8th round

That's the last round

I would report that round in poetry

As a matter of fact, I have already written a poem that describes it

Here is the 8th round of the Clay-

Liston fight exactly as it will happen

Clay comes out to meet Liston

And Liston starts to retreat

But if he goes back an inch farther

He'll end up in a ringside seat

Clay swings with his left

Clay swings with his right

Look at young Cassius carry the fight

Liston keeps backing

But there's not enough room

It's a matter of time

Ere Clay 'll loss the boom

Now Clay lands a right

What a beautiful swing

The punch raises Liston clear out of the ring

Liston still rising

And the ref wears a frown

For he can't start counting

Till Sonny comes down

Now Liston disappears from view

The crowd is getting frantic

But our radar stations have picked him up

He's somewhere over the Atlantic

Who would have thought when they came to the fight

That they'd witness the launching of a human satellite

Yes, the crowd did not dream

When they put down their money

That they would see a total eclipse of the Sonny