(instrumental intro)

Dissed the world, Bush's throng; war they're bringing...
The Shrub's war-happy.
So loathed is the Shrub by this world; bombs he's flinging...
War makes him happy.

Neocon dreams have unraveled - no matter.
They're got the ear of Shrub, although they are complete frauds.
So whatever happens, their net worth just grows fatter.
They're war-happy, stealing oil from where they maraud.

Neocon throng is dead wrong, but they're clinging.
War makes them happy...
So loathed is the Shrub by this world; bombs he's flinging...
War makes them happy...
War makes them hap-py-y-y-y.