There’s a cowboy in the White House
but his rope is getting frayed;
it's coming all unraveled
like the mess that he has made.
The cattle all seem restless –
any day they might stampede –
and it's worrisome enough
to throw a fellow off his feed!
Wishes he could be like Cheney,
always know just what to do:
when facts get too contrary
why, just go make up a few.
Wishes he could stay in Texas
where the yellow roses bloom
and forget the situation
in the Situation Room.
There's a cowboy in the White House
where cowboys don't belong.
Iraq is a disaster — guess he's done
a few things wrong.
Now the streets are full of protest
which the Press is quick to capture,
but, hey! He'll trust in God, the Surge,
and if that fails, the Rapture!