We can draft the ladies for war
over dominoes, wmd’s and oil.
We care about starving tikes
when we find some whites we like.
Our boss, the Russian bear
He makes it so hard there.
Golden Showers will have to call
From this side of his wall
Oh may I go in please
For freedom for oil companies?
Enjoy your draft, ladies
Some rights are not to please
You’ll have no retort
For “Greetings you will report.”
And when Venezuela’s refugees
starving and on their knees
arrive at our wall
What will be our call?
David Michael Jackson
