Wednesday, March 26, 2003

Nursery Rhymes, or Complete Break From Reality: TMRM Loses His Mind

Beware: This is the result of my having to spend a good chunk of the day in my car, hyped to the gills on inhuman ammounts of caffeine, and out of range of decent radio stations.

A Bush Family Lullaby

(see sidenote below for cadence)

Tell the press McCain is crazy,
They’ll accept it ‘cause they’re lazy,
And their thoughts are awful hazy,
And their moods are awful phase-y.

The press thinks Gore tells lies,
So they’ll bitch about his ties,
And climax over your rise,
And not let Krugman criticize.

Come just a few votes short,
Then be elected by the Court-
But not the recount they abort-
While Jim Baker’s screaming “Tort!”

Give big tax cuts to the rich,
Put the nation in the ditch,
Then blame Clinton and his bitch,
While Scaife pays Drudge the snitch.

Tell the world to fuck itself,
Then sit back and count your wealth,
While the press praises your health,
And how you’ve improved yourself.

Let Dick screw California,
While the Clinton’s try to warn ya,
And Ashcroft fights mari-warn-yah,
Like a Christian that’s reborn-a.

But if the country’s getting pissed,
‘Bout the terrorists you missed,
And North Korea who you dissed,
And executives you’ve kissed.

If the voters are a-doubtin’,
Then you better start a-shoutin’,
‘Bout the rules Iraq’s a-floutin’,
And violations you’ve been toutin’.

If Osama ain’t been captured,
‘Cause your staff’s been so enraptured,
By evidence that’s manufactured,
And the UN that you fractured,

Make Coalitions of the Willin’
‘Cause our gas tanks need a-fillin’
And you sorely need a villain
Who you’ve got a chance of killin’.

Drop the bombs from way up high,
And say there’s more than meets the eye,
Give Halliburton-the-whole damn-pie,
Send Ari Fleischer out to lie.

Once Baghdad’s been demolished,
And the Bill of Rights abolished,
And your designer shoes are polished,
And the twins are good and colleged,

The GOP will know the score,
And will beg you for some more,
And Democrats that you deplore,
Will be fucked until ’04.

Then your story will be completed,
(‘Cept the records you’ve deleted),
‘Cause the Founders you’ve defeated,
And the nation’s soul depleted.

You’ll have ruined all our lives,
Filled up all our backs with knives,
But from the rich you’ll get high-fives,
And they’ll offer you their wives.

“It can’t happen here” they’ll say,
“God don’t let it, please” they’ll pray,
But it’s happening today,
So God Bless The USA!

Sidenote: Proper cadence:


Crunch extraneous syllables into their neighbors, playing around with the emphasis.

This song can actually be sung. Trust me.

Sidenote the Second: Is this an accurate, well-thought out depiction of my political views?

If you think so, don't ever read my site again.

Sidenote the Third: Man...there is something seriously wrong with me.

Sidenote the Fourth: But seriously. If you had spent two hours of your life making something up in your head (even if those were idle, on the road in the car by yourself hours), would you want it to simply disappear, or would you want to preserve it for future generations?

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