The Great Satan comes,
and he's carrying a big gun;
he wears an American uniform.

The Great Satan is here,
and he likes to drop bombs;
he paints downed MiG's on his plane.

The Great Satan passes,
his .50 cals cattering death;
and endless stream of rounds.

The Great Satan lives,
behind barbed wire and sandbags;
why does Satan need to sleep?

The Great Satan sleeps,
he's done all his evil today;
I guess even evil needs a break.

The Great Satan sweats,
it's hotter than hell here;
I guess he isn't immune?

The Great Satan bleeds,
he got hurt by an IED;
funny, his blood looks red, too.

The Great Satan helps,
he is rendering aid to hurt Iraqis;
wait-a-minute, why would he do that?

The Great Satan pays,
he is giving money to the needy;
don't we normally call this charity?

The Great Satan leaves,
he is flying back home in a plane;
maybe he was human after all.

A bomb goes off at a police station,
a roadside bomb takes out traffic,
landmines explode under children's feet,
a gunman opens up on a crowd.

A mayor get assassinated,
so did his predessesor last month,
vehicle-born IED takes out a check point,
a bomb-maker accidentally sets off a charge.






So who is your Great Satan now?

06/14/2005

Posted on 06/14/2005
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