It seems like a hell venue,
Up and down parched avenues.
Acrid smoke perfumes the air;
This action sure seems unfair.

Since old-news empire's fallen,
His muse has come a callin'.
Looks like now's the time
To ring re-Union chime. . .

'cause he'd been blue
Since the big blow 'round '92.
He's set to go in fascist fits--
Putin on a blitz.

To the bight he sends a gray boat;
Georgians fight. . .pray that theirs may float.
A shell hits.
Putin on blitz.

Sending in, his penchant, the storm troopers.
He's an independence party-pooper--
Super[power] nukester.

He don't nix those rocket-shellers;
They are pricks, those shock-troop fellers. . .
Won't kibitz.
Putin on a blitz.

Apparatchik since he was a laddie;
Asks the vanquished ravished, "Who's your daddy?
Da, me, Vladie!!"

Once they're there, there is no stopping,
And their air power is whopping. . .
Blown to bits.
Putin on a blitz.

The ventriloquist behind Dimitri,
Krelimist gent runs the show completely--
Once KGB. . .
Thumps Tbilisi

The West begs feckless Medvedev,
"Take a rest!" He ain't head with cred.
"Nyet!"s they gets.
Putin on blitz.