The man with the plan
His name is Stan.
What’s his plan?
To lay waste to all of man.
He sits there with his rotten old men.
Cronies in crime,
Life they want to stem.
All they are, are corporate mimes.
Towards their end,
Bombs will be dropped.
Lives will be cropped.
There will be no limit to what they spend.
Stan’s man is George aka GW
The fool on the hill is nothing but trouble.
The fool’s right hand man is a dick.
Finger on the trigger waiting to click.
Partners in crime
They have us in a bind.
Inflicting pain
To get what they gain.
I pity these fools
Sitting on their porcelain thrones,
Picking their pitiful bones
Thinking they have wonderful jewels.
Wars they wage far away
They are too afraid
To stand and fight on their own.
The blood that will be spilt is not their own.
They take pleasure in the sorrows of others -
The killing of their sisters and brothers.
If they were to face threat,
They’d run screaming like little girls I bet.
Wasting all of our money
It just ain’t funny.
Think of all that could be done here
With all the dollars spent on bombs – just to keep us in fear.
To these fools I say
Your time has come to go away
The hell hounds will chase you
For the crimes committed for the enjoyment of you.
