Another song—
sung to the tune of
I Feel Like I’m Fixin’ to Die Rag by Country Joe MacDonald
Well come on all you big strong men
Old Dubya needs your help again,
The mess he’s in is really tough,
Way down yonder in the Persian Gulf,
So put down your books and pick up a gun,
We’re gonna have a whole lot of fun.
And it’s one, two, three, what are we fightin’ for,
Don’t ask me I don’t give a fig, next stop’s them oil rigs.
And it’s five, six, seven, open up the pearly gates.
Well, there’s no time to wonder why,
Whoopee!
They’re all gonna die.
Come on wall street don’t be slow.
Why, Man, this war is a-Go-Go-Go.
There’s plenty of good money to be made
By supplyin’ the Army with the tools of its trade.
But just hope and pray that if they drop a nuke,
They drop it on old KirKuk .
And it’s one, two, three, what are we fightin’ for,
Don’t ask me I don’t give a fuck, just keep my gas below two
bucks.
And it’s five, six, seven, open up the pearly gates.
Well, there ain’t no time to wonder why,
Whoopee!
They’re all gonna die.
Come on Generals, let’s move fast;
Your big chance has come at last.
Now you go out and get those Rags–
Cause the only good Iraqi’s in a body bag.
And you know that peace can only be won,
When we’ve blown 'em all to kingdom come.
And it’s one, two, three, what are we fightin’ for,
Don’t ask me I don’t give a rat’s ass, let’s mop us up some Iraqi
trash.
And it’s five, six, seven, open up the pearly gates.
Well, there’s no time to wonder why,
Whoopee!
They’re all gonna die.
Come on Mothers now don’t be sad,
Pack your boys off to old Baghdad.
Come on Fathers, don’t hesitate,
Send your sons off before it’s too late.
And you can be the first ones in your block
To have your boys come home in a box.