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US Election

Codric was in New York and Massachusetts in the days immediately following the re-election of Dubya.  The mood was sombre in these traditional Democrat areas, bordering on a deepening shame about what they felt was happening in the USA.  The following poems were penned in Nassau a few days later.

           Four More Years

Four more years, four years more
So grit your teeth and shed no tears
The people have spoken so donít get sore
Heís found his God and theyíve got theirs

Use your tax breaks to the full
Loaf around in sea and sun
Come on, do it, donít be dull
Realise life is full of fun

Donít you worry about the poor
A New Deal has just been found
Theyíre the ones who can go to war
Think of it, the idea is sound

As for that blessed National Debt
To borrow money is no sin
Doesnít matter it canít be met
Youíll be dead when itís called in

Let the world think what it likes
Now as one in its hates
Us, the nation of first strikes
God given, God driven United States

As for the over educated classes
Of intellectuals, gays and liberal thinkers
With their oysters, clams and wine filled glasses
Their hearts and minds in euro blinkers

Let them join their fellow pinkos
Listening for that tolling bell
For theyíre just a load of hopeless stinkos
Queuing at the doors of Hell

We are rich and full of might
We donít need reason on our side
The world is ours, as of right
Take it now and enjoy the ride

God made us what we are today
This Islamic thing must surely crash
Donít let Allah take it all away
So go in, evangelise, kick ass

Four more years, four years more
For Godís new empire to prevail
Will we win, can we be sure?
Whatís the price if we do fail?

The price of failure will be great
And leave a scar on our good name
Can we afford to risk this fate
And hang our heads in floodlit shame?

But the price of victory will be greater
Giving us a running sore
Giant bills to be paid for later
When the world erupts in holy war

So will he and God forgo this dance
And do what others dare not dare
To give the world another chance
And show us that they really care

Four more years, four years more
For them to stake their place
To open or close that eternal door
That divided our only human race


             God and Dubya

God moves in a mysterious way
And brings George W. into play
Endorsed by Him and endorsed by them
With licence to kill and spread mayhem

God no doubt has His plan
Of how to use His greatest fan
To return us all to primeval mud
Or turn him round and make him good

God got us where we are today
For Heís omnipotent, so they say
ĎItís not for us to question why
But for us to do and dieí

God, can this last be really true
That the masses must obey the few?
And go to war in Your name
To play out their unholy game

God tells us that our Earthly strife
Will be rewarded in an afterlife
But those who by our hands we fell
Will, in contrast, go to Hell

God, You gave us George W.
He believes his job is to follow you
Some worship him as Your son
To save the foetus and preserve the gun

God, please tell him this isnít so
And there really isnít some unholy foe
That compassion is not a dirty word
And being liberal is not so absurd

God, itís presumption, we admit
That to some Youíve become a shit
Your sell-by date has come and gone
Your holy Will will not be done

God, redeem Yourself in our eyes
Make the bygones become bye-byes
Admit you have no master plan
Pull Yourself together and become a Man

God, take a clean sheet of paper
Prove again You are our Maker
Point One with Your new found brush
Get rid of that bloody eejit Bush