Freedom lite Logo

Bomb em all

Oh!

Bomb ’em all. Bomb ’em all
The ones of the veil or the shawl,
Bomb all those Afghans Iraqis and Kurds
Bomb all their weddings their wells and their herds
For we’re pre-empting death to them all
As under their rubble they sprawl
Where the D.U.s aboil in their water and soil
So beers up me lords bomb’ em all.

 Bomb ’em all. Bomb ’em all
With shot and with shell let us maul
“Don’t count their dead! Miss the mosque if you must
But burn’ em to crisp napalm’ em to crust”
For we’re smashing these states to the wall
And who dares give help to their call
With all N.G.O.s gone ‘our’ party is still on!
So beers up me lords bomb ’em all.

Bomb ’em all. Bomb ’em all
Let’s torture and rape till they fall 1916-2009
We’ve bombed ’em and gassed ’em right down the line
So let’s kick in their balls ‘Hood ’em’ Hoon
And while Clunkett croaked the same toon
There’ld be Anthony Blair farting lies to the air
So beers up me lords bomb ’em all.

Bomb ’em all. Bomb ’em all
The house and the school and the ‘mall’!
“Geneva Con what? Guantanamo where?
Just kill the bad ‘uns -the ones… over there.”
For as “stuff happens” Rummy would say
“Who knows who is who if you pray.
Na get right off ma tits’ n go blow ’em to bits”
So beers up me lords bomb ’em all.

Bomb ’em all. Bomb ’em all
You’ve always got Rupe you can call
When the Sun Sky Times are yours every day
Straw, he can fuck it but lo he’s made hay.
Now Iraq’s up for grabs and wholesale
With Fox as the sting in the tail
We’ll let them refit it and tit tit tit tit it!
So beers up me Lords bomb ’em all.

Bomb ’em all. Bomb ’em all
Goldsmith bent it legal this call
Brown isn’t worried there’s poppy to sell
Pays for our guns in the next round of Hell.
Negroponte will smooth all dissent
With his happy Honduran bent
Letting death squads abound and
More death rattles sound
So beers up me lords bomb’ em all.

Oh

Bomb em all. Bomb em all.
The ones of the veil or the shawl
For Nuremberg came and Nuremberg went
Now we have ‘Bomb ‘n Buy’ all in a tent.
Stuff Magna Carta well out of date
It’s gun size now it’s gun size mate
So go strike through their soil
And slurp slurp up their oil
It’s beers up me lords
It’s beers up me lords
It’s beers up me lords bomb ’em all.

 

April 3, 2004

Print Email