His name was Fidel; he broke the old world
of lackey dictators down where Batista had his lair.
First there’s the golpe, then a quick “ta-ta!”
And then gone was the corrupt Czar…
revolution had a star.
But the U.S. got sore and sent some guys to war,
but Bay of Pigs effort was smothered…
Russia to the fore
there in Castro, Castro Nirvana.
A world hot spot was then Havana.
“Down with Castro” became a mantra.
A near-nuke-clashin’, but missiles sent packin’.
By then Castro was the new thug…
Castro loved Russia.

Presidents come, go,
Ike to half-white man:
Eleven in the White House chair; none got Fidel outta there.
Not one could finish him off; reigned over
decades as the endless Czar; then his health became subpar.
So up stepped number 2, his nasty bro, Rau’.
Thick is blood, and the old regime’s wrought, passed off as new.
It’s still Castro, Castro Nirvana,
from Ike all the way to Obama,
just more of the same in Havana
in the Castro, Castro Nirvana.
The torch was passin’, yet Fidel was lastin’.
When would grandpa chomp on the dust?
(Castro, Castro Nirvana
can’t go, can’t go forever.
Castro Nirvana hangs in Havana
Ike to Obama.)
The years were passin’, yet Fidel was lastin’.

The time of Fidel, much like the old world.
But he did some good for folks, though
a dictator ran the show.
Though Fidel did go, there’s still his brother,
but until he is outta there,
the country can’t be repaired.
Raul’s well past his prime, and soon will come his time.
When he’s gone too, then in eternity
what will he find
in the autocratic Nirvana?
He’ll likely run into Batista
and all of those who gave us "pravda."
In an strong-man, wrong-man Nirvana,
autocrat cash-in is always the fashion.
Not just Castros…passel of thugs…
parcel for Trump.