At first he came with gifts <br />and money for the bank <br />he pointed out the rifts <br />amongst our folks, that Yank. <br />He promised me a palace <br />of purest amethyst <br />back home in Yankee Dallas <br />he shook his feeble fist. <br /> <br />His henchmen on our soil <br />MacDonald's in our malls <br />his aim was Baghdad oil <br />and watching how it falls, <br />this house of foreign cards <br />when all the wells are dry <br />when no one pays the guards <br />it is a Yankee lie. <br /> <br />At night, a common thief <br />in silence cuts your throat <br />and leaves no time for grief <br />that foul and mangy goat. <br /> <br />I am Saddam, the great <br />I help the weak <br />the common man, my mate <br />God loves the meek, <br />I hate you infidels <br />and strike with might <br />and chase you to your hells <br />into the night. <br /> <br />Eternal fire will <br />now choke each breath <br />I am the ruler still <br />who gives you death. <br /> <br />There will be no appeal <br />the dice are cast <br />and we can make a deal, <br />forget the past! <br /> <br />And George, my Yankee friend <br />let us make up...... <br />and to the very end <br />drink from the cup <br />that's made of holy gold, <br />a sign of peace <br />it is as I have told, <br />you take my niece <br />and we shall have much wine, <br />to hell with laws! <br />My wives, there are just nine <br />they have no bras. <br /> <br />As you can see, dear George <br />we stand with you, <br />and as we slowly forge <br />(all this is true) <br />a genuine Fatherland <br />where you and me <br />will smoke the richest brand <br />of Hashish Tea. <br /> <br />Allah who is our God <br />is always fair <br />he smiles and gives the nod <br />that we shall share <br />the world in peace and love, <br />our souls are clean. <br />Saddam and George, our dove <br />shall now be seen.<br /><br />Herbert Nehrlich<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/from-my-attic-xii/
