AMERICAN DESTRUCTION

(with apologies to Barry McGuire)

Our trade imbalance, it is exploding,
The deficit alone is just too big for toting,
Our foreign affairs are just more war and goading
I’m telling you, friends, I feel a grim foreboding
But this is what we get for too few Dems a-voting,
And I tell you, over and over I see a fearsome trend
I believe could lead to American destruction.

Don’t you understand what I’m trying to say?
If the Bush administration keeps getting its way
The conservative wingnuts will lead us astray
Their idea of greatness is Bush and DeLay
And future generations will view with dismay
And I tell you, over and over I see a fearsome trend
I believe could lead to American destruction.

Tax cuts for the wealthy and not for working,
The need for decent healthcare, they’re all for shirking,
Our sacred Constitution, they’re now reworking,
And just outside your bedroom, James Dobson’s lurking,
And all the time I picture Dick and Georgie smirking,
And I tell you, over and over I see a fearsome trend
I believe could lead to American destruction.

Our way of life, it is disappearing,
Our politicians live for electioneering,
Their legislation looks more like racketeering,
The poor and middle classes cry, but they’re not hearing,
The end of progress is what Rethugs are cheering.
And I tell you, over and over I see a fearsome trend
I believe could lead to American destruction.

THE CRAVEN

Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered weak and weary
Over some new offense by a peevish, lying wingnut boor,
While I lost more precious slumber contemplating one more bummer
By a pundit so much dumber, dumber than the one before.
"’Tis my task to become number to each hummer, that’s my chore.
Merely this, and nothing more."

Ah, distinctly I remember when reporters would dismember
Any statement by a member speaking on the Senate floor
Not content to merely scribble every little drip and dribble,
Theirs the job to check and quibble, bringing candor to the fore.
But, alas! they’ve been co-opted, rushing us to needless war,
Doomed to just be media whores.

Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your attention I implore;
But the fact is you’ve been napping while the right-wing gang is sapping
Our most treasured rights and trapping more of us among the poor.
Is your sense of pride and independence gone forever more?
Is there no return in store?”

Then at last I heard the laughter bouncing from my bedroom rafters
And I knew that ever after in the journalism corps
There would still be more annealing till they nearly all are reeling
And, I have a sinking feeling, kneeling at the Bushes’ door,
Begging access and declaring they are willing to be whores,
On their knees forever more.

THE RUMSFELD RAG

Semi-finalist in the Koufax Awards in the category of "Most Humorous Post"

(With apologies to Country Joe)

Well come on, all of you big strong men,
Uncle Sam's telling lies again,
Figured out that to fight a war
All you have to do is send the poor.
While Georgie and his buddies laugh and feast
They'll send you to the Middle East.

And it's one, two, three, what were you voting for?
Oil profits and endless war?
Did you think there was something more?
And it’s five, six, seven, let the theme reverberate:
“Muslims, gays, and liberal states,
Whoopee! We got lots to hate.”

Come conservatives throughout the land,
Now’s the time to take a stand,
Get it into liberal weenies’ heads
That the only good Iraqi is one who’s dead.
Raze their cities, destroy their lives
And convert ‘em all to Jesus Christ.

And it’s one, two, three, who were you voting for?
One deserter and a chickenhawk?
Who else could win Iraq?
And it’s five, six, seven, let the theme reverberate:
“Muslims, gays, and liberal states,
Whoopee! We got lots to hate.”

On 9/11 the country changed
And some of us became quite deranged.
With fears abounding from out and in
We launched a crusade to battle sin.
We all see something’s going wrong,
It’s about the time to drop a bomb.

And it’s one, two, three, what were you voting for?
Don’t you see or don’t you give a damn
‘Bout the lessons of Vietnam?
And it’s five, six, seven, let the theme reverberate:
“Muslims, gays, and liberal states,
Whoopee! We got lots to hate.”

HE IS THE VERY MODEL OF A GOVERNMENT EXECUTIVE

Sung to the tune of "I Am the Very Model of a Modern Major General" from Pirates of Penzance:

He is the very model of a government executive
His language it is doublespeak, his better half is decorative
He claims to be immaculate, his record stands for all to see
And shining through it all is his incredible mendacity
As to administration, why, his cabinet’s impeccable
And human progress, not for profit, gleefully deemed wreckable
Ambition is his only creed, his means are reprehensible
His policies will ruin us and are clearly indefensible.

(chorus)
His policies will ruin us and are clearly indefensible.

To right his wrongs may prove to be a sheer impossibility
Especially when he claims to bear no share of culpability
He’s clearly on the road to making miseries subsecutive
In practice he has been a very awful chief executive.

(chorus)
He’s clearly on the road to making miseries subsecutive
In practice he has been a very awful chief executive.

He’s very good at stoking fears and chumming with the media
His public lies are legion, they could fill encyclopedias
He’d like to see the end of what we call the social safety net
And finance his adventures with a generation’s unpaid debt
He’s not above accepting an anointment of divinity
While strutting off to further demonstrate his masculinity
By bullying and threatening, two tactics quite indicative
Of George’s nature, which is clearly cruel and vindicative.

Republicans, now heed me well, you bear responsibility
And Democrats who traffic with him will reap our hostility
Protect our nation now and please defend our Constitution
Or America will be facing its own final resolution.

HAPPY GOODBYE 2004

Sung to the tune of The Christmas Song:

Unemployment lines are stretching now,
Job security is gone.
As to Iraq and the things our troops lack --
These issues all bring on a yawn

“Cause they’re never wrong,
These Bushies and their sycophants.
Their agenda is quite clear:
Working families don’t rate in their scheme,
They’ll find it hard to eat next year.

(chorus:)
They thought that Bushie was their guy,
He told them fear the conflagration in the sky.
He said it’s Clinton’s fault that many died,
And it’s your duty now as citizens to buy.

And so he offered you this simple phrase:
“To feed the rich will help the poor.”
You bought it, he won, and now wait for the dun --
Happy goodbye, two thousand four.

WON'T BE HOME FOR CHRISTMAS

Sung to the tune of I'll Be Home for Christmas:

Won’t be home for Christmas,
Back-door draft is here.
We were snowed and buffaloed
By Bush election cheer.

Now I’m just a pawn in
Bush and Cheney’s schemes,
The end of my enlistment
Is only in my dreams.

NIGHTMARE ON BUSH STREET

I dreamed I saw my family
What each one had become --
My son, his bones bleached in Iraq,
My mother eating crumbs,

My husband struggling to find work,
My daughter’s choice denied;
A theocratic Congress
Stole her own right to decide.

No health insurance we could pay,
My sickly grandchild passed away.
Tuition steep, my other son
Dropped out of school, his dreams undone.

I cried aloud and timely woke
The nightmare wasn’t mine
‘Twas many, many families
That suffered such decline,

A common end to what we see
Now happening in our nation
As BushCo tries to turn us
Into masters and plantation.

And those of us who see the truth
Are struggling with frustration;
He’s got us on a straightaway
To one big conflagration.