Chocolates melt and roses wilt. Bushies at their windmills tilt, And still the Sunnis aren't inclined to vote. The cattle prod; the firing squad; The promise of election fraud. Ev'rything Bush tries strikes a sour note. Candy's dandy; liquor's quicker; Except where love of Allah's thicker, Which puts the kibosh on the twins' suggestion, Although the promise of a harem Here on earth might just ensnare 'em. But don't you wonder who'd get that concession? Bob Carlson To 'When Bushies Love Sunnis' |