Letter From Iraq

The hot Sunni sun
passes Moaning Mosque Spire.
B-company's pinned down-under heavy fire.
Underneath the palms,
there's improvised bombs
Because Jihad Johnny knows,
Yankee is a liar.

[Chorus:]
An eye for an eye.
And blood for Texas Tea.
At the call to prayer
Al Queda's on his knees.
Isac vs. Ishmael.
Allah vs. Christ.
[...] on the offense
picking up the beat.

There's celebratory fire,
a purple thumb vote.
Tom cruise is on a sortie
from the gulf love boat,
Smart bombs are coming,
See the children running.
The dead are all laughing,
But we don't get the joke.

[Chorus]

They lost another friend today.
It's getting rough over there.
They say the whole things fucked.
I wish the boys were back.
At least I know they're still alive.
Another letter from Iraq.

Presents full of Christmas loot.
All that's left of Bullet Billy-
is a pair of bloody boots.
His mom is on the phone;
His girl is all alone.
We all stand in the rain
for a twenty-one gun salute.