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O Bush, we pray that Thou won't last beyond two thousand six, For when we can we'll ditch the caste who got us in this fix. Inside the bubble that's Thy throne Thy cronies felt secure, If only Thou and they had known how little we'll endure. Before oil bills and warfare could reject Thy claim to fame, Thy proclamations Thou art Good fortold a reign of shame. With thousands dying in Thy fight and peace on earth unknown, Thou used Thy watch to claim Thy right to eavesdrop ev'ry phone. Time for an unrelenting purge to chase our fears away, So please resist MacGregor's urge to stay and stay and stay. So Bush, we pray that Thou won't last beyond two thousand six, For when we can we'll ditch the caste who got us in this fix.
Music by William Croft To 'Bushie, Impeached' To 'Bushie, The Loser' |