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.
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