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They're too damn hot, that Gitmo lot. I'm so fed up with who's snitchin' tonight Who cares what's up with their bitchin' tonight? We'll rough 'em up and then ditch 'em tonight. The guards we use, we'll be switchin' tonight 'Cause they're too damn hot. According to the latest report Ev'rybody apparently knows How much I'd love to make torture a sport, And go for those low blows – So ev'ry time I find my dander is up And my temper is sizzling hot, I tell Don, Lay it on. Why not? Well, they're too damn hot. So we'll farm them out to the few friends we've got, Who'll know what to do whether guilty or not. They'll send me video of each pot shot So I can watch, yet not do diddley squat – They're so damn hot!
Music & Original Lyric by Cole Porter |