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Dubya's War Across the distant shore I hear the drum beats more and more They are the heart beats of war, war, war Slowly, rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat The snare sends out its call Come on you young warriors and get ready to fall Fall for your country in that far away land Where the people didn’t have a vote and slept on sand Rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat Call in the buglers, call in the horns Thousands of Mothers left to mourn Rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat The cymbals clash, and the cannons roar The Ode To Joy, the call of war in 1824 Rat-a-tat-tat, Rat-a-tat-tat Oh these soldiers out to kill Weapons of mass destruction - someone else’s will It’s easy to send ‘em when they’re not your own Look at ‘em come back in coffins heads blown Oh yes Mr. President they’re not your own Rat-a-tat-tat, rat-a-tat-tat |
Additional Notes:
I just envision (and hear) Beethoven's Ninth Symphony playing this while this is being read.
Obviously this is not about the war in 1824.
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