Oh, Dubya, Dear Dubya, It's Going to Get Rough

by Oliver Wendell Halliburton

Oh, Dubya, dear Dubya, it's going to get rough,
Your downfall's beginning, you slime.
America's tired of your lies and your guff,
And your Daddy can't help you this time.

Item One--here you strut on this old video,
Telling lies just to make folks afraid.
Item Two--all the photos that you wouldn't show
Of the bodies of those you betrayed.

Item Three--here's a memo on torture you wrote;
Four's your gulag, where law is forgotten.
Item Five--here's the payoffs that bought you the vote.
Here's your character witness: Bin Laden!

Item Six--here you loaf, just a-strummin' guitar
While folks in New Orleans went under.
They drowned while you clowned, slept, and peddled your war;
Now the whole nation's pissed, and no wonder.

Item Seven: The cronies you put in high posts:
Party hacks, college roomies--a brood
Who just gawked while a hurricane ravaged our coasts
--If a terrror attack comes, we're screwed.

Item Eight--Karl Rove, your old Slimer-in-Chief
Being frogmarched to court for his treason.
Item Nine, which you brought in the night, like a thief:
Our debt, which is vast beyond reason.

Item Ten is the failure of your mad invasion
That would rebuild...the whole Middle East!
You never told us that a whole generation
Would be needed to do it, at least.

Oh, Dubya, dear Dubya, come home in duress,
Impeachment's beginning, you worm,
And afterwards, criminal charges we'll press
And, please, please, God, a stiff prison term.

Oh, Dubya, dear Dubya, come home with me now.
Your free passes have ALL passed away.
I pray you'll sleep tight in your cellblock tonight
With Cheney and Rove and DeLay.