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More Bushie Carols
“Bring A Torch Before They Expel Us” (Bring A Torch, Jeanette Isabella) “Check-Your-Call” (Deck The Hall With Boughs Of Holly) “Come Kiss My Butt” (O Come All Ye Faithful) “Go Tell Him That We're Countin'” (Go Tell It On The Mountain) “God Bless Ye Bush Intransigents” (God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen) “God Bless Ye Good Republicans” (God Rest Ye Merry Gentlemen) “He Eavesdrops On Strangers” (Away In A Manger) “Heck Of A Job, Bush, A Genius You Are” (We Three Kings of Orient Are) “How Delusional To Cling” (Hark! The Herald Angels Sing) “How'll They Tell?” (The First Noel) “Joy For Fox World” (Joy To The World) “Laura Asks…” (What Child Is This) “Laura's Lullaby” (All Through The Night) “O Holy Right” (O Holy Night) “Our Lord Bushie Had Been Told” (Good King Wenceslas) “Please Don't Ask Me To Pull Out” (Good King Wenceslas) “Should Bush Secretly Stake Out” (Good King Wenceslas) “Still Ravaged Town Of New Orleans” (O Little Town Of Bethlehem) “Strident Knight” (Silent Night) “These Three Things” (We Three Kings of Orient Are) “To Some He's Unlawful” (O Come All Ye Faithful) |
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Bring a torch before they expel us. Bring a torch and join in the fun. Bushie is throwing a bash on the Tigris With pants on fire and impeachement nearing. Ah, hah! Nasty bitch of a mother, Ah, hah! Idiot of a child. Chastened? No! There's lots more to pillage. Hasten now to see if Iraq's Oil can be siphoned to Cheney's coffers, To see if the Kurds will forgive Bushie's pop. Oh, no! Nasty bitch is his mother, Oh, no! Idiot is her child. Still out of touch, his rating's aren't stellar. Even his Grinch has little to say. Both are in favor of incineration, Like the nation they claimed they would save. Blame that nasty bitch of a mother, Blame that idiot who's still a child.
Music & Original Lyric - Traditional To 'Bushie's Christmas Carols' |
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Check-Your-Call is Bush's folly, Tra la la la la, la la la la. Seems a little creepy-crawly, Tra la la la la, la la la la. Con his spies with you own carol, Bla-a-la, bla-a-la, blah blah blah. Pray his kin will all be sterile, Tra la la la la, la la la la. Fool the ghoul who's watching o'er us, Tra la la la la, la la la la. Change him from against to for us Tra la la la la, la la la la. Maybe he feels too much pressure, Bla-a-la, bla-a-la, blah blah blah. Guess we need somebody fresher, Tra la la la la, la la la la. N.S.A. is holding classes, Tra la la la la, la la la la. To distinguish lads from lasses, Tra la la la la, la la la la. Can't lump terrorists together, Bla-a-la, bla-a-la, blah blah blah. Some they'll tar but some they'll feather, Tra la la la la, la la la la.
Music & Original Lyric - Traditional |
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Come kiss my butt ye critics of my triumphs. Come to see me postulate who's helping who. Come and be told that you're unpatriotic, That I'd be neurotic, probably psychotic, Even idiotic not to Wiretap you. Seen from all angles, worshipped by the nation, Kissed by ye sinners who hate my self-love – Glory to oil fields, soldiers without shields, Voters who are well heeled, A cut above! Butts be fideles, Late Night non-tiumphantes On good days and bad days ad in-fin-ee-tum. Make 'em videte Cheney angelorum, My Rummy adoremus, my Brownie adoremus, Oy vey, my ignoremi, Bushiedum!
Music & Original Lyric by John Francis Wade To 'Bushie's Adversaries' |
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"Go tell Him that we're countin'. Look how many we've made billionaires. Even with our losses mountin', Rummy carries on." With Friendly Fox News watching, providing oversight, Assisted by Ted Stevens' brimstone, the Holy Right Doth causeth Bush to tremble – he risketh their net worth – So shouting "Please pray for us and a warmer earth," Bush called his money changer, cried, "Cheney toot your horn. He told me make more money; that's why I was reborn. "So tell Him that we're countin'. Look how many we've made billionaires. Even with our losses mountin', We boondoggle on."
Music & Original Lyric - Traditional To 'To 'Policies - Greed & Corruption' |
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God bless ye, Bush intransigents, take comfort while you may. Remember who you savored for taxes you don't pay, Whose power to learn how much you earn rests with the N.S.A. – No more hiding what someone said you could, with a falsehood, Unless you're good at knocking on wood. God bless ye, Bush intransigents, tax policies have changed. Those tax favors that Dick Cheney said he had arranged To save you all from Saddam's power? They've now been exchanged For tidings that you're going to jail. What a betrayal! Bush eavesdropping disclosed your audit trail. God bless ye, Bush intransigents, your best hope's with the courts. If Alito should get in, we'll see what he aborts After women's rights, perhaps tax evasion torts? How sad that Cheney's power backfired and will destroy the joy Of Christmas as a George Bush good old boy.
Music & Original Lyric - Traditional |
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God bless ye, good Republicans, there is no need to pray. Remember Bush, Our Savior, will pardon Tom DeLay, So give your all for Bushie power, he's promised that he'll stay – Contributing's a comfort and joy, and a tax toy, Deductible for Bushie hoi polloi. Thank God that Bushie's father has taught his son the game, Imbued him with his love for oil and showed from whence it came. Now that you've seen he's always right and rarely takes the blame – Contributing's a comfort and joy, and a tax toy, Deductible for Bushie hoi polloi. We also thank his mommy dear for letting him be born. Apparently abortions hadn't then become the norm, And though she is a harridan, who guessed that he'd be crowned, She's prob'ly still a virgin; what man would fool around? Contributing ensures a lot more joy, and a tax toy, Deductible for Bushie hoi polloi.
Music & Original Lyric - Traditional |
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He eavesdrops on strangers; court warrants are dead. Our Bushie has panicked; the lad's lost his head. The farce he's engendered could hang Tom DeLay, Along with the Mayor of Congress, Bob Ney. Our chatter unknowingly raises the stakes Revealing the number of Bushies it takes To rescue Lord Bushie as he alibis His FEMA vacation while New Orleans dies. Protect us, Lord Bushie, now you've found a way To make ev'ry Goebbels determined to say, As well as O'Reilly, who claims it's OK, "Zeig Heil, our Lord Bushie, take cover and pray."
Music & Original Lyric - Traditional |
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Heck of a job, Bush, a genius you are. Tax cuts for billionaires made you their star. Your deficiting and your blood letting Have gotten us where we are. Don't you ever wonder how You could blunder like O'Leary's cow, Yet be repeating and constantly bleating, "Heck of a job" and not "Holy Cow"? Stuff still happens wherever you are. Your scooter breaks and you've no second car. GM is failing, Brownie is bailing, And Rove's got you on R & R. Yet you don't seem to wonder how, When you blunder like O'Leary's cow, Instead of repeating and constantly bleating, You should be switching to "How now, brown cow?"
Music & Original Lyric - Traditional To 'Bushie, The Dummy' |
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How delusional to cling to the notion he's a king. Regal birth and smirky smile? Just the latter, for a while. His United Nations tries went nowhere; they, too, were lies. And that vict'ry he'd proclaim? Premature and down the drain. What will Bushie's New Year bring? More reminders he's no king. Once the highest in The Guard; too lost for a St. Bernard. Late to kick Auld Demon Rum; bought religion and then some. Veiled intentions Rove could see – dumb unholy trinity – Cheney, Rummy, who attest he whose strings they pull's the best, Yet Bush New Years quickly bring more reminders he's no king. Childish dreams of glory lie with the premise more must die To achieve his quest for oil ere the rest see native soil. Rise to vote the dummies out; vote against more king-like clout. Stay all plans to stay the course of that rear end of a horse Lest all Bushie New Years bring more reminders he's no king.
Music by Felix Mendelssohn |
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When you call from Nextel, please ask N.S.A. To make certain those lepers who vote for DeLay In districts where they are required to sleep Get Nextel cell phones or they won't make a peep. How the hell will they tell their Bushie black sheep There's no telephone traffic to warrant their keep? When Bush wakes he'll find that his lawyers did goof, That he's now in a bind with courts raising the roof, All spelling the dearth of an eavesdropping right And fueling the mirth of Jon Stewart each night. How the hell will they tell their Bushie cartel There's no telephone traffic that warrants a cell?
Music & Original Lyric - Traditional |
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Joy for Fox World! Employers know Expensive jobs must go. Bush wants them to outsource Their best paid jobs, of course, Then hire more Mexicans, Then hire more Mexicans, Then hire illegal underpaid ex-Mexicans, Joy for Fox World! Their time has come. George Bush has seen to that. It now is no joke That Spanish must be spoke By most Americans, By most Americans, Like indigent and unemployed Americans. Joy for Fox World! The time will come When Fox should be our king As Bush departs, Fox would deport Excess Americans, Who were ex-Mexicans, Replacing them with replaced ex-Americans.
Music & Original Lyric by G.F. Handel To 'Bush's Employment Policies' To 'Bush's Immigration Policies' |
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What child is that That he begat When no one knew where he was at? A Bush deadbeat, A sad repeat, Who'll savor war from a ringside seat? This, this will be the king Of something or other, The next ding-a-ling. Haste, haste, you Bush offspring, The one I have now is scary.
Music & Original Lyric - traditional carol To 'Domestic Disasters' |
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Sleep, dear boy, while ratings tumble. Give up the fight. Flacks will tell you what to mumble To get it right. They will help disguise the numbers While old Rummy blows up Hummers And my Bushie Baby slumbers With all his might. Sleep, my Yankee Doodle Dandy, Now it's their fight. Flim flam Feaver flacks are handy To serve the right. With their polls they'll soon determine, And be publicly confirmin', Even Ollie North is squirmin' And real uptight. Sleep while Fox flacks write your speeches, All through the night. Let your Miller/Woodward leeches And your far right Somehow warn those young Islamists That the virgins they've been promised Don't do busted-up alarmists Who now can't quite.
Music & Original Lyric - traditional Welsh lullaby To 'Co-conspirators - Media Flacks' To 'Policies - Quitting Iraq' |
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O Holy Right, Your stars will be indicted. You are the source of much mirth. Yours was a world of sinful Scotch golf outings, Till Abramoff squealed and now Leavenworth. Those slipp'ry slopes – Those years of wrongful choices – Now ponder fears of incarceration – Bend over, please, Ignore those inner voices. The boys are in line – Hold tight, you'll be just fine, O Right Divine, O Right, O Right, divine!
Music & Original Lyric - Traditional To 'Co-conspirators - DeLay' |
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Our Lord Bushie had been told that he was in limbo, But the Pope said, "You're too old; limbo's now in limbo." Unabashed, our Bushie grinned, "Why's he speak pig Latin? If he thought I'd truly sinned, we'd not be chitchattin'. Heaven is what really counts; Hell would be too cruel. Dallas Cowboy bimbos jounce and I merely dro-o-ol. "Tell the Pope to stick by me, if he wants some action. Baghdad babies bellydance. I'd love his reaction. Gay old men in floor length gowns like he's been forbidding? Hotter times in camel towns, babes who dance while sitting. Heaven is what really counts; Hell would be too cruel, And he'll find that bounce for bounce I know where to dro-o-ol." Our Lord Bushie's escapades don't include Dick Cheney. Who, unlike his lusty aids, needs his dull and brainy. "We can't have him popping off, while the Pope is dancin', Even though he'd sit and scoff, prob'ly hardly glancin'. Heaven is what really counts; Hell would be too cruel, Till you grouch instead of pounce and won't even dro-o-ol."
Music & Original Lyric - Traditional To 'Bush's Cheney' |
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Please don't ask me to pull out. Their oil should be ours. As Joe Lieberman points out, I have special powers. Power to make dumb Democrats cringe and knuckle under. Obviously scaredy cats second ev'ry blunder. Week-kneed Lieberman's concerned with the next election. Not Iraq's, so he's turned to me for direction, Knowing I love compliments from folks with no gumption. He hopes his constituents won't make that assumption. Joe knows if he spills the beans, I won't likely cotton To the need for submarines in a town like Groton. Blessings on his willingness to pimp for more oil. Pulling out would not address his need to look loyal.
Music & Original Lyric - Traditional To 'Bushie's Joe Lieberman' |
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Should Bush secretly stake out critics for believin' They aren't paid to write about leaks to just get even? Does Rove fear Lord Bushie might be perceived as cruel If they blame so much frostbite on the cost of fuel? Will the Congress stand by him while the poor are freezing, Serenading with their hymn, 'They're There For The Fleecing…'? "Sire, such poor constituents don't deserve assistance. Stevens says they're malcontents; questions their existence. "Bridges going nowhere last season after season. Toes with frostbite seldom last that long after freezin'. Blessed monarch, we're with you; we'll succeed together. Global warming's what we do, hurricaneless weather."
Music & Original Lyric - Traditional To 'Bush's Congress' |
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Still ravaged town of New Orleans, will Bushie let you die? He tried to keep FEMA asleep and visit from on high. Yet with his bark and whining about his Brownie's plight, He's fueled our fears that all these years he's never got it right. How Bush was born is scary; when told to push she shoved. Instead of one who'd earn his keep, we got someone who's goved. Yet with a proper tether perhaps he'd do all right, But who'd pull strings for wayward kings? Geppeto Cheney might.
Music by Lewis H. Radner |
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Strident knight – Holy knight – Has no qualms – Always right. Found that purgin's too slow and too mild – Holy amendments too often reviled. Rendered dissenters increase – Thank God for Bushie's police. Strident knight – Holy knight – No fair shake – Left ain't right. Gory scenes observed from afar – Why should we worry? Our SUVs are Reason enough for a piece Of the oil supply Bush will increase. Strident knight – Holy knight – Righteous screams at the sight: Infidels living in 'our' holy place – Bushies seem to have fallen from grace – Why are they still here on earth? What help to Cheney's net worth?
Music by Franz Gruber To 'Bush's Christmas Carols' |
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These three things we certainly are, Humble, trustworthy, in need of PR. Loose accounting, losses mounting, Borrowing's our bête noir, so Time to plunder, time to fight For low taxes so we might Soak the needy, not the greedy, Make more money for the Right. Named the King in Rove's smear campaign, Dubious rulings for political gain, Courts so clever somehow they never Saw I'm someone they'd arraign, so Time to plunder, time to fight For low taxes so we might Soak the needy, not the greedy, Make more money for the Right. WMDs? Well, mud in your eye. Oil is the reason Saddam was the guy. Now we're queasy, Iraq's not easy. Why didn't we try for Dubai with Time to plunder, time to fight For low taxes so we might Soak the needy, not the greedy, Make more money for the Right?
Music & Original Lyric - Traditional |
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To some he's unlawful, Or just plain god-awful, But all see redundancy in what he's said. Most that behold him hate the lies he dangles, So though his mom adores him, More and more abhor him. They know we can't affford him Playing God. Sing while he dangles And tries all the angles To claim that he's winning ad nauseam. Each story oddly is totally Bush-biased, So though his mom adores him, More and more abhor him. They know we can't affford him Playing God.
Music & Original Lyric - Traditional |