Extra Crispy Chicken-Hawk Turkey

The chickenhawks glare as they cluck for a fight
"Standing tall" at the same time they slide out of sight
Though they speak about "safety" and "terror" alike
They're in more danger now from a meteor strike

But it sounds reassuring to hear such resolve
From the ones who cause problems that they never solve
Just to pledge and to vow and to promise and swear
Hardly eases the burdens that others must bear

Of course, consequences will flow from those acts
Perpetrated by gamblers unsure of the facts
But we sure didn't seem too concerned with the waste
In the almighty rush to get started in haste

When they whipped us to war we did not make a peep
Which accounts for our nickname: the Nation of Sheep
For to question our turkeys would be too absurd
Which explains why they call us the Fate Driven Herd

Behind two great oceans and continent vast
Republicrats strut far away from the blast
And fluff out their feathers to look more enlarged
In the hope that we won't find them guilty as charged

Those hundreds of billions we’ve squandered on scars
Would have funded a colony settled on Mars
But instead we've got astronauts passing the cup:
Hitching rides with the Russians while the Chinese catch up

And the billions of bullets we've shot from our guns
Should have already killed every Muslim mom's sons
So why, since we've shot up the whole bloody place,
Do the millions who hate us keep growing apace?

In a far better world where we thought for ourselves
We'd be less like old Santa exploiting his elves
Talking tough like some street hood in lewd rapping rants
All to cover the smell of the shit in our pants

Now our craven canaries on leave from their cage
With their bright yellow plumage beginning to age
Have begun like the stool pigeons gladly to sing
Any tune that will get them safe out of the ring

For the fight's lasted longer than one easy round
And many brave soldiers lie dead in the ground
While the still-squawking chickenhawks bluster and preen
Trying so hard to look both alive and unseen

So they've screwed the pooch out in the park at high noon
Which has even embarrassed the sun and the moon
And our troops must buy time with their deaths so these twerps
Can escape sharing cells with some orange-suited perps

Though many have died and so much money's lost
Still the quagmire continues to add up the cost
While our dithering, duckspeaking, "leadership" quacks,
Our troops suffer through more "insurgent" attacks

But the swagger and glaring and clucking on cue
Won't affect what reality takes as its due
In time, our tough turkeys may yet feel the heat
Of the flames in Hell roasting their own greasy meat