(instrumental intro)
Critics blast away at his hypocrisy,
Defending his B.S. to the world,
Bush fears his past will just lose him votes,
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Iraq's now warring; won't believe what he saw.
And now a million troubles f**k up his oil war.
Dreams to keep his throne, which is not his own.
Critics (a billion) blast away:
"Crook-king, just go home!"
Defending his B.S. to the world,
Defending his B.S. to the world,
Defending his B.S. to the world.
This dope, the Dim Son, gets by.
This dope, the Dim Son, gets by.
This dope, the Dim Son, gets by.
Bush lives in a bubble.
(repeat chorus and fade)