Oh Libya, oh Libya, there’s wacked dreck in Libya,
Libya—Cad Daffy’s crazy.
He’s a guy that folks abhor so,
Yet he’ll bore so even more so.
Libya, oh Libya, the den of terroristas. . .
In Libya, a creepy mad loon.

Oh Cad Daffy is wacky, a wanton loon,
His tight-nit pestilential cadre: goons.
A loutish unwashed knave, a dreadful cartoon;
All should spurn this dog from Libya.

[ululations]

He wears robes, like a girl. On his dome is a squirrel
Or a pre-dreadlocked knot of hair?
Very slimy is he who ordered Lockerbie,
Though Washington told him he ought beware.

[ululations]

Oh Libya, oh Libya, there’s wacked pest in Libya—
Libya, Cad Daffy’s crazy.
When he nuzzles goats for action,
He gets thrilling satisfaction.
Libya, oh Libya, den of hairy-beast stickers;
In Libya, with sheep they’re enthralled.

The dude sits on a throne, but this “monarch”’s ersatz.
For his ewe, takes Viagra—else his rod sure sags,
And when it’s shear day, he has some carpet shags.
Not much urge for dog in Libya.

[ovine ululations]

He’s a bungling buffoon and an African wacko;
He should be snuffed out like all puffs of tobacco.
Yes, he is appalling; supports Hamas and Iran;
He’ll taste what is rimed on the nates of an imam.

[ululations]

Now this gross mammalian’ bewailin’ that no one
In Jersey will let him erect his tent. . .no fun.
He’s more stinky than that which a plumber
Flushes—impurities—with a plunger.

[toilet flushing]

Libya, oh Libya, that den of terroristas,
Oh Libya, its chump so appalls.

He once sent an animal to bomb the fleet;
The airship was ripped, blown to bits by this feat,
But that loathsome bomber soon his maker meets
Post-release by freaks in Britannia.

I said Libya,
The dread Libya.
No tent, Libya,
Get bent, Libya,
Ta ta. . . .