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"Bushie's Little Christmas New Year"
So we welcome the new, with the same old fear,
Because of course, Bush is still here.
We live in a dream world, led by a fake,
Are we all hypnotized; not awake?
-----------------------
Santa brought Bush a gift, as you know;
Stole another one--two in a row!
Republicans brimming with gifts, like elves,
Ohio vote numbers they made up themselves.
So now, regardless, the deed was done,
The media handled, the election "won";
But for every promise Bush fails to keep
The people now just fall asleep.
A while ago, at any rate,
A crisis was coming, and it would be great;
"Where is Bush?" they were heard to say,
"On vacation--we like it that way."
An army of the poor had come to call
Up to the White House and straight down the hall;
They asked what became of that campaign vow:
"Where are your Christian morals now?"
Bush's staff thought they were servants or peons,
They hadn't talked to their like in eons:
"What do I say?" one of them fretted,
"These aren't contributors; who had them vetted?"
The people told of their terrible plight,
Family farms destitute, urban blight;
The old now threatened, the young who never had,
"For us, your economy is always bad."
"We are not helped by stocks, up or down,
"The words 'tort reform' are the words of a clown;
"Tax cuts won't help us, subsidies too,
"Because we have nothing, and they all go to you."
Their accusations, their cries for relief,
Began to annoy the Repub Corporate Chief.
"These people were fun when they cheered me on cue,
"But now the servants tell ME what to do??"
Finally, Rich Boy had had quite enough,
"You welfare queens think you have it tough?"
"You try to embarrass me with all these displays,
"Why don't you turn in your 401Ks?"
"If you have these problems, sell off your yachts,
"You think you have problems--I have lots."
Then Repubs started pushing them all out the door;
These little peons were not fun anymore.
"What do the poor know about God's will?
"Whatever they want, I want to kill."
None understood what was the fuss,
"You claim you want Jesus--you voted for us."
Then the whole group came back to their senses,
Remember our pose, our attacks, our defenses.
"How can we use this against them," Bush thinks;
Call them "liberals," "whiners," "they drives when they drinks"?
"Let's skip that last one," one of them said,
"Especially when driving makes some end up dead."
"We'll search all their records, we'll dig up some dirt,
"As the Lord God permits us to fight when we're hurt."
As the privileged demons prepared their attack,
Something new had called them back.
The media learned of the incident here;
Those brown-nose corporate crawlers--they're nothing to fear.
The media grilled Bush as they have all along:
"You were right, weren't you Georgie, and they were all wrong?"
Then Bush asked an aide advice on how to seem sincere,
"Give a pinch to your cheek--it'll force out a tear."
Oh what a laugh, the oppressor on top;
Hauls out the Bible, to use as a prop.
The same winners win, the same losers lose,
But who do you fool, when thus you abuse?
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I dreamt I had a dream that night,
Little Bushie's toughest fight.
A real punishment for a real crime;
No Daddy to bail you out this time.
To the dark Other side, get there with a push,
And meet at last the Lord; surprise--it wasn't Bush!
"The punishment you give will be given to you,
"Because you are a sinner, too."
A long line precedes you, so wait at the end,
What have you made of yourself, "Friend"?
Your Party is now the rich, who acquire,
And I know your faith to be that of a liar.
Laughing, partying, your spirit left to rot,
"But I was hungry, and ye fed me not."
You put on an act, have a photo-op here
But there the picture is totally clear.
The powerful arrayed against those who can't fight,
Total oppression this long dark night.
Halliburton, Cheney, GE and more,
Kenneth Starr, WalMart, every kind of whore.
Plotting, planning, stabbing, slashing,
Here is where you belong.
And listen now to the pain of your victims,
Where once, laughing, you sang along.
I ordered you to "Feed my sheep,"
"Give away your riches."
You mouthed the words and took the credit,
Then like a light, it switches.
A slogan, a mask, a campaign tactic,
Pretending to know God's holy pain.
The only visions you ever had
Were from your mounds of cocaine.
You were winning now, on the attack,
Mouthing words straight from that device on your back,
But wait, don't worry, it will come true,
Someday the world will all judge you.
You trick and you fool and do all your research,
No judge can stop you, on corrupt Earth.
And like a rich boy you always get by,
But wait, bastard sinner; when you die....
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