bernard franklin

A Mandate for Hypocrisy

As diplomacy fails around the world

the old allies group together,

they despatch the western war machine

for old Saddam’s head to sever.

 

As western warships fill the Gulf

with their weapons cocked and ready,

the allied troops prepare to fight

their resolution calm and steady.

 

Deep underground in a Baghdad lair

the Iraqi junta plots its fate,

do they have weapons of mass destruction

that the world would love to hate ?.

 

If they had anthrax hidden in hospital wards

and nerve gas stocked in schools,

the junta knew that children’s deaths

would show the west as fools.

 

With the decisions made and orders sent

there is no turning back,

it’s the bombs that have the courage now

stuff the politicians lack.

 

Five hundred warplanes bomb the land

destroying everything in sight,

the Arabs with no form of defence

with sticks and stones do fight.

 

Iraqi land so cruelly scarred

their blood that’s spilt in vain,

Iraqi lives just tossed away

their people full of pain.

 

After four days and nights of hell on earth

there’s two hundred thousand dead,

dusty fallout covers all the land

and the rivers run crimson red.

 

As the middle east erupts in fire

like a cauldron brought to boil,

the western world protects its friends

if they’re prepared to sell them OIL.