Times were shifting; big drops in Bush's polls.
Dub-ya hid in Crawford, made his getaway.
Helpless feeling; bleeding, full of holes.
His regime is lurching, there's a debt to pay.
They're enraptured, thinking he's divine,
All the looneys of the Right.
But they couldn't see the blight.
But they couldn't see the bli-i-ight.
Bush kept on looking for a way
To fake until Election Night.
He's headed for a fi-ight.
He's headed for a fight.
More war fever... makes them feel all right.
Bush's "Holy Writ" - they think it's "destiny."
Quagmire-bound, so deep; they've run aground.
Stuck inside Iraq, but they refuse to see.
They're enraptured, thinking he's divine,
All the looneys of the Right.
But they couldn't see the blight.
But they couldn't see the bli-i-ight.
Bush kept on looking for a way
To fake until Election Night.
He's headed for a fi-ight.
He's headed for a fight.
(instrumental break)
New York City... got hit; Shrub did hide.
Many thousands died, planes caused fatality.
Bush was branded: coward deep inside;
Ran for cover to discount reality.
They're enraptured, thinking he's divine,
All the looneys of the Right.
But they couldn't see the blight.
But they couldn't see the bli-i-ight.
Bush kept on looking for a way
To fake until Election Night.
He's headed for a fi-ight.
He's headed for a fight.
(repeat chorus and fade)