Song: The Bush Jeer and "We're All Gonna Fry Rag"


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Gimme a B!
B!
Gimme a U!
U!
Gimme an S!
S!
Gimme an H!
H!
What’s that smell?!
BUSH!
What’s that smell?!
BUSH!
What’s that smell?
BUSH!

We’re All Gonna Fry Rag

Come on all you unemployable men…
Listen to my Republican spin.
This war on turruh’s no desprit sham…
Down yonder in `Slamo-Fascistan.
Won’t none of my crooks see the light of the sun…
A rhetorical war’s never done!

And it’s one, two, three,
What are we waitin’ for ?
Don’t ask me, I don’t got a plan,
Just want to drop Tehran;
And it’s five, six, seven,
Servin’ up that squirrelly hate.
Well now there ain’t no crime I wouldn’t try,
Could be… I’m gonna lie.

Well, come on you libruls and show some class…
`Fore I `cuse you all of bein’ pederast.
Better go out and raise my creds…
Before my old mommie and poppie’s dead.
Ain’t no caprice from number one son…
When he’s flown around on Air Force One.

And it’s one… big… spree,
What are we waitin’ for ?
You ask me, we don’t need a plan,
Just got to pop Iran;
And it’s time… for… heaven,
Servin’ up that squirrelly hate
Well now, I done decided they gotta die,
Whoopie!… They’re gonna fry.

Huh!

Dependin’ on K Street to make it so…
Sit back and watch them profits grow.
Plenty sure that Rummy ain’t overpaid…
Lyin’ on the armor that we won’t upgrade.
We’ll thank LeMay when we drop the bomb…
No stoppin’ `til Korea’s gone!

Why can’t… you… see,
What are we waitin’ for ?
Don’t ask me, I don’t need a plan,
I’m no flip-floppin’ man;
And I’m live… at… eleven,
Servin’ up that squirrelly hate
Well now they ain’t no slime I wouldn’t try,
You see… I’m gonna lie.

Well, it’s all my `druthers, just talk to the hand..
Gonna whack the boys from Fascistan.
No more bothers, there’s no debate…
Set off them nukes, unpack the crates.
Afterwards we’ll clean their clocks…
In a democracy paradox.

I’m not one… to… flee,
What are you frightened for ?
You ask me, we’ll just have the Klan
Co-opt the Taliban;
They should try… un… leavened,
Servin’ up that squirrelly hate
Well I done decided a lot’ll die,
Whoopie… We’re all gonna fry!