Dubya the Red State Repub (a song)

There were Harding and Hoover and Coolidge and Lincoln
Garfield and Eisenhower, Reagan and Nixon
But do you recall
The most brain-dead Repub of all?

Dubya the red-state Repub
Had a very tiny brain
And if you tried to find it
You would only search in vain

All of the other Repubs
Used to laugh and call him names
They never let poor Dubya
Join in any Repub gains

Then one foggy Texas eve
Karl Rove came to say
'If you sway the Loonie Right
We can win on election night'

Then all the Repubs loved him
As they shouted out with glee
Dubya the brain-dead Repub
You'll go down in history

God Help Ye Merry Congressmen (a song)

God help ye merry congressmen
As you all hope and pray
That these investigations
Will stop at Tom Delay
To save and hold from justice's power
All those who've gone astray

Oh tidings of misery and woe
Misery and woe
Oh-oh tidings of misery and woe

The money that you launder
And secrets that you share

Will soon come back to haunt you
And give you quite a scare
Not to mention that $230 mill
For a bridge that goes nowhere

Oh tidings of misery and woe
Misery and woe
Oh-oh tidings of misery and woe

If Abramoff does cop a plea
And cut a special deal
The congressmen who're gotten greased
His secrets will reveal
Duke Cunningham will hardly be
The only pig that squeals

Oh tidings of misery and woe
Misery and woe
Oh-oh tidings of misery and woe

The New Terrorists: Vegans, Llama Lovers, and You (a rant)

We interrupt our Xmas revelry to bring you this important news: While you were sleeping, your country became a totalitarian state. But not to worry; it's for your own good. Really.

All on its own, the Bush Administration has decided that it's perfectly legal to tap the phones of American citizens, read their email, follow them, 'detain' (but not arrest) them, and ship them off to a prison cell where they can be tortured for months on end -- without ever having to prove they had a good reason for doing so. Their rationale? An obscure argument by an obscure legal scholar named John Yoo, which holds that in a time of war the president is granted unlimited power, including the power to declare a time of war. Chicken or egg, egg or chicken? No matter -- we're all just little cubes of ham inside one big omelet.

(The Yoo Doctrine is not to be confused with the Woo Doctrine, formulated by Hong Kong film maker John Woo, which states that when encountering opposition you must leap sideways with semi-automatic weapons blazing from both hands.)

Not to worry. The Republicans have promised to relinquish total control of the US government by the year 2055--or until the water is undrinkable, the air unbreathable, the last drop of oil has been sucked from the earth, and everyone who's not a member of the moneyed elite works at Wal-Mart.

Where have we seen this before? Hitler's Germany? Stalinist Russia? Mao's China? No. Movies like War of the Worlds and Independence Day, where the planet is attacked by locust-like creatures bent on extracting all of its natural resources.

Our fearless leaders assure us the only targets of this spying are terrorists. I suppose that might be comforting if it were true. But like "enemy combatant," the definition of "terrorist" is entirely in the hands of the Bushites. According to heavily censored FBI documents obtained by the ACLU, terrorists include environmentalists, animal rights activists, Catholic social workers, and vegans:

"One FBI document indicates that agents in Indianapolis planned to conduct surveillance as part of a 'Vegan Community Project.' Another document talks of the Catholic Workers group's 'semi-communistic ideology.' A third document indicates the bureau's interest in determining the location of a protest over llama fur planned by People for the Ethical Treatment of Animals."

Yes, it's true: FBI agents secretly disguised as llamas infiltrated PETA and detained several members for excessive grooming. Alarming amounts of green leafy vegetables were also consumed.

Astoundingly, the Bushites are using their domestic spying to sell the reauthorization of the most troubling aspects of The Patriot Act -- the ones that let investigators find out what books you've read and what stuff you've bought without telling you, the ones that let them break into your home and have a look around without asking permission first from a judge.

Here's a scoop: The Patriot Act is mostly about ordinary every-day crime -- like money laundering, computer fraud, and drug trafficking. According to a June 2005 report in the Washington Post, less than 10 percent of the 400+ people charged with crimes related to Patriot Act investigations had anything to do with terrorism. The average sentence for those convicted? Around 11 months. Not exactly the kind of penalty you'd expect for your average bomb-building jihadist.

Next on the fed's list: file swappers, Internet pornographers, and people who say "Happy Holidays" instead of "Merry Christmas."

The Patriot Act is not about fighting terrorism. It is all about gutting the Fourth Amendment. Domestic spying isn't about keeping us safe. It's payback for the people the government doesn't like.

It turns out the terrorists who hate our freedoms weren't the ones who brought down the towers and burned the Pentagon. They were the ones inside the White House and Air Force One while it was happening.

Happy Holidays!

Violent Right (a song)

(as sung by Pat Robertson, James Dobson, and the Family Research Council to the tune of Silent Night)

Violent Right
Holy Right
Schiavo's life
Was our fight
There she lay in a vege'tive state
In the courts' hands did rest her sad fate
Life is sacred, we cried
She should not ever have died

Violent Right
Holy Right
Clinics bombed
In the night
Round yon fetus we gather in prayer
For its mother we haven't a care
Life is sacred for all
Until right after they're born

Violent Right
Holy Right
War is good
War is bright
Sending our soldiers to murder and maim
Is fine, so long as it's done in God's name
Life is sacred, we quack
Unless you live in Iraq

The Little Bomber Boy (a song)

Report: The US may use planes instead of troops in Iraq -- New Yorker magazine, December 5, 2005.

(sung to the tune of The Little Drummer Boy)

The war has gone to shit, said Rumsfeld (bomb bomb)
I have a cure for it, said Rumsfeld (bomb bomb)
To bring the soldiers home, said Rumsfeld (bomb bomb)
And raise us in the polls, said Rumsfeld (bomb bomb)
Rumsfeld (bomb bomb), Rumsfeld (bomb bomb)

When they explode a device, said Rumsfeld (bomb bomb)
We'll call in an airstrike, said Rumsfeld (bomb bomb)
Some innocents will die, said Rumsfeld (bomb bomb)
But they won't be GIs, said Rumsfeld (bomb bomb)
Rumsfeld (bomb bomb), Rumsfeld (bomb bomb)

We will have peace with honor, said Rumsfeld (bomb bomb)
We'll get it with airpower, said Rumsfeld (bomb bomb)
We'll grind them into dust, said Rumsfeld (bomb bomb)
So we can gain their trust, said Rumsfeld (bomb bomb)
Rumsfeld (bomb bomb), Rumsfeld (bomb bomb)

This is my strategy, said Rumsfeld (bomb bomb)
For total victory

Lawyer Fitz is Comin' to Town (a song)

You better watch out
You better not lie
You better not pout
I'm telling you why
Lawyer Fitz is coming to town

He's making a list and checking it twice
He's giving the next grand jury advice
Lawyer Fitz is coming to town

He sees you when you're leaking
He knows when you obstruct
He knows if you've just perjured yourself
So you best not press your luck

You better lay low
You better resign
You better not gloat
I'm telling you why
Lawyer Fitz is coming to town

The kids in all the blue states
Will have a Jubilee
They're gonna build a bonfire
And burn Rove in effigy

Oh, you better watch out
You better not lie
You better not pout
I'm telling you why
Lawyer Fitz is coming to town

Do You Know What I Know? (a song)

(sung to the tune of "Do You Hear What I Hear?")

Said the Scooter boy to the Miller girl
Do you know what I know?
Strictly off the record, Miller girl
Do you know what I know?

A spy, a spy
In the CIA
With a husband on the payroll
With a husband on the payroll

Said the Scooter boy to the Novak scribe
Do you hear what I hear?
Wilson's just a schmoe, Novak scribe
Do you hear what I hear?

The nukes, the nukes
Saddam tried to buy
They were real as far as we knew
They were real as far as we knew

Said the Scooter boy to the jury fair
Believe me when I say this
No one leaked a thing, jury fair
Believe me when I say this

The calls, the calls
About Joe Wilson's wife
I sincerely do not recall
I sincerely do not recall

Said the jury fair to the Scooter boy
Do you see what we see
A lying weasel in a three-piece suit
Do you see what we see?

A jail, a jail
A cellmate twice your size
He will make you his brand new wife
He will make you his brand new wife

The WitList Christmas Special

Merry Xmas folks! Please feel free to sing along.

We Wish You a Merry Fitzmas

We wish you a Merry Fitzmas
We wish you a Merry Fitzmas
We wish you a Merry Fitzmas
And a happy new year

Indictments for Rove
And all of his friends
Indictments for Fitzmas
And a happy new year

Oh bring us a guilty Libby
Oh bring us a guilty Libby
Oh bring us a guilty Libby
And give him five years

Indictments for Rove
And all of his friends
Indictments for Fitzmas
And a happy new year


Stay the Course
(sung to the tune of "Let it Snow")

Oh the war in Iraq is frightful
But the oil is so delightful
So as long as we rule by force
Stay the course, stay the course, stay the course

It doesn't show signs of stopping
And our popularity's dropping
But as long as we rule by force
Stay the course, stay the course, stay the course

When our troops finally withdraw
We'll say "welcome home!" to the corps
And declare Iraq ruled by law
While they have their civil war

The insurgency still is raging
And our lies are badly aging
But as long as we rule by force
Stay the course, stay the course, stay the course


Lobby Wonderland
(sung to the tune of "Winter Wonderland")

Cell phones ring
Are ya listenin'?
On K Street
Gold is glistenin'
As we get paid off
By Jack Abramoff
Working in a lobby wonderland

Gone away
Are the blue states
Tom Delay
Will now dictate
As we get paid off
By Jack Abramoff
Working in a lobby wonderland

In the meadow we can build casinos
And pretend that we're an Indian tribe
You'll say "You been paid yet?" and I'll say "Me? No.
But you can the leave the envelope inside."

Later on
at the trial
We'll issue
A denial
That we got paid off
by Jack Abramoff
Working in a lobby wonderland


The President's Song
(sung to the tune of "The Christmas Song")

George Bush roasting on an open fire
Pat Fitz nipping at Karl Rove
Tom Delay being hung at his trial
And Dick, dressed up like for death row

Everybody knows
These turkeys are all guilty now
Of crimes too numerous to say
Spinning lies, outing spies, offering lame alibis
This time they will not get away

We know that history's on our side
They do things even William Buckley can't abide
And every Democrat is going to spy
To see if neocons really know how to cry

And so I'm offering this simple phrase
To you, in states both red and blue
Although it's been said many times may ways,
Mr. President: Fuck You.

What a Wonderful War (a song)

(as sung, by George W. Bush, to the tune of Sam Cooke's "Wonderful World")

Don't know much about diplomacy
Don't know how to spell W-M-Ds
On a map I couldn't find Iraq
All I know is that we must attack

But Dick tells me that I'm the chief
And I'm stupid beyond belief
What a wonderful war this would be

Don't know much about insurgency
Couldn't tell a Shiite from a Sunni
Dick assures me they're in their last throws
But how far they throw I just don't know

Still we're training Iraqi forces
And I know that we do not torture
What a wonderful war this would be

Now I don't claim to be a world leader
but I'm trying to be
Cuz if maybe I was a world leader
You might have respect for me

Don't know much about sacrifice
Don't remember how my shoes get tied
Don't know much about how wars are fought
Can't say I've ever given it much thought

But we'll stay till we have victory
Though what that means is still a mystery
What a wonderful war this would be