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Verse Had he stayed in Wyoming he'd still be obscure And no one would know he's nearsighted. Nor would questions about his intentions be sure To result in a country divided. Yet he learned to lie as a way to get by And always avoid a straight answer, An ingenious scheme so that he'd qualify As Bushie's 'Why-not-take-a-chancer'. Chorus Told that the slain would drop near the lane, Bird Shot Cheney was quick to say, "When I aim to be hunting all day, Long walks to the game I'm not needing." Dreaming of Vietnam dreams untold, Quite unconcerned with catching a cold, Frequently bolstered and in no pain, Cheney would shoot from the lane. Whom he shot there, Including where, Are all secrets of int'rest to none. If he got his share, Why'd anyone care About dastardly deeds he'd undoubtedly done When he failed to take aim from the lane? While journalists question in vain, A sorrowful White House is left to explain, "Cheney's been at it, Cheney's been at it, Cheney's been at it again."
Music & Original Lyrics by Noel Coward |