SONG PARODY: RESOLUTION

You say you'll kill the resolution
Well, you know
You just think you run the world.
You say you've got your own solution
Well, you know
The UN won't run the world.
'Cause when you practice your obstruction
Don't you know that you'll be counted out?
Don't you know you're gonna be
Ignored
Ignored
Ignored.

Inspections, they're just an illusion
Yes, we know
You all sleep in Saddam's bed.
If that's your only contribution
Well, you know
Y'all can go pound sand instead.
And if you want money for people that hate our guts
Don't you expect that the US will kiss your butts.
Don't you know they're gonna be
Kicked out
Kicked out
Kicked out.

Our war plan's set for execution
Don't you know
It's about to be unleashed.
And as you stand there in confusion
Don't you know
Our objectives will be reached.
And when Saddam's gone and Iraq is under control
We'll turn to NK and we'll say once again, "Let's roll!"
And we know you're gonna be
Afraid
Afraid
Afraid.

Politeness

The English and the French were met
Upon the field of future battle;
The foes were formidably set
And waiting for the guns to rattle;
When from the serried ranks of France
The English saw with woeful presage
Under a flaming flag advance
A trumpeter who bore a message.

'Twas from their Marshal, quite polite,
Yet made the English leader shiver.
"We're perched," said he, "upon the height,
While you're exposed beside the river.
We have the vantage, you'll agree,
And your look-out is melancholy;
But being famed for courtesy
We'll let you fire the starting volley."

The English General was moved,
In fact his eyes were almost tearful;
Then he too his politeness proved
By writing back: "We are not fearful.
Our England is too proud to take
The privilege you thrust upon her;
So let your guns in thunder break:
To you, M'sieu, shall be the houour."

Again a note the Marshall sent
By envoy for his battle station:
"Your spirit wins my compliment,
Your courage my appreciation.
Yet you are weak and we are strong,
And though your faith is most inspiring,
Don't let us linger all day long -
Mon General, begin the firing."

"How chivalrous the soul of France."
The English General reflected.
"I hate to take this happy chance,
But I suppose it's what's expected.
Politeness is a platitude
In this fair land of gallant foemen."
So with a heart of gratitude
He primed his guns and cried: "Let's go men!"

The General was puzzled when
No answer came, said he: "What is it?
Why don't they give us hell?" And then
The herald paid another visit.
The Marshall wrote: "to your salute
Please pardon us for not replying;
To shatter you we cannot shoot . . .
My men are dead and I am dying."

--- Robert Service

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