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WAR IN THE DESERT

WAR IN THE DESERT
(To the tune of, “A Horse with No Name,” by Dewey Bunnell,, recorded by America in 1971)

The first time in the desert
We were eager to save Kuwait
From the clutches of a madman
Cause they had oil in that state
So we rolled some tanks and we dropped some bombs
And we chased him back to Bagdad
Then Papa Bush said, “Let’s go home.
Cause we’ve done enough to that cad”

First we went to the desert in defense of Kuwait
Cause they had oil in that state
When we went there, there wasn’t debate
For Saddam was someone, we could all hate

But war begets only war (To: la, la, la, la, la, la)
Of that you can be sure
A fool once said there would never be more
So they wrote,  Mr. President” on his door

The second time in the desert
We were chasing the Taliban
Cause they’d let Osama bin Laden train there
And he was a nasty man
So the CIA rode horses around
Nation building for miles and miles
But as always, our soldiers left town
Now the Taliban are all smiles

So we went to the desert in Afghanistan
|To get rid of the Taliban
And to the mountains that border Iran
Cause that’s where 9/11 began

But war begets only war
Of that you can be sure
A fool once said there would never be more
So they wrote “Mr. President” on his door

The third time in the desert
We were looking for weapons they had
Cheney said those evil weapons were there
So we fought our way to Bagdad
But the son of Bush wasn’t up to par
Wasn’t quite up to his dad
And bravado outpaced wisdom there
Only Halliburton felt glad

So we went to the desert once more in Iraq
Searching for a weapons stack
But those weapons were a desert mirage
A ruse made up for camouflage.

And war begets only war
Of that you can be sure
A fool once said there would never be more
So they wrote, “Mr. President” on his door

And this time in the desert
We’re back on the attack
Bombing ISIS weapons we’d left
To resuscitate Iraq
But Iraq never was a state
Just lines drawn in the sand
By the allies after WW I
But the Arabs never bought their plan

So we’re back in the desert, back in sandy Iraq
Like moths drawn to a flame
Into the desert, we’ll always go back
How to stay out of war? We haven’t the knack

And war begets only war
Of that you can be sure
A fool once said there would never be more
So they wrote “Mr. President” on his door.

Lyric © 2014 by Robert S. Steinberg, Esquire
All rights reserved

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