Going hunting, Would you care to come along? Going hunting, But be sure to bring along An armored vest like those our troops lack in Iraq, A request not to be shot in the back, A bequest in case you suffer an attack When a drunk old coot decides to shoot. Going hunting, Bring along a case of port. Going hunting, It's a chance to show support With a box of shells intended for Iraq's NRA And a solemn pledge that you will never join AA As long as they're refusing to admit that it's OK When a drunk old coot decides to shoot. Going hunting, So please bring George W. Going hunting, He'll never guess what we're up to, That FEMA's Brownie ever could have planned a Bush ambush, That our ammunition's rock salt and we were aiming for his tush, That a single shell in hand's not worth a couple in a Bush When a drunk old coot decides to shoot. Bob Carlson |