Monday, June 20, 2005

Bush's American Gulag

To the tune of Hotel California by the Eagles

On a dark old navy base
Cool wind in my hair
Warm smell of urine
Rising up through the air

Up ahead in the gulag
I saw the grand inquisitor
My head grew heavy,
and my sight grew dim

I had to stoop for the chains
There he stood in the doorway
I heard the torturer laugh
And I was thinking to myself
This could be Painful
or this could be Hell

Then he turned up the rap sounds
And he showed me his fist
There were voices down the corridor
I thought I heard them say
Welcome to Bush's American Gulag
Such a shitty place
Such a shitty place

Plenty of room at Bush's American Gulag
Any time of year
Any time of year

It couldn't be much worse
Bush blesses it with a curse
It makes him feel powerful
And compensates for his tiny tool

They're livin' it up at Bush's American Gulag
What a crappy place
What a crappy place

Relax said the warden
We are programed to recieve
You can check out any time you like
But you can never leave