A tearful Musharraf shed his uniform today. I admit, I'm not much of a poet, but there is something so sad about the jilted lover aspect of this, I felt inspired to say it in verse. Consider it a follow-up to my Hi'Ya Mushie phone call post.
I Took it Off for You
A Scorned Lover's Lament
I took it off for you.
Now tell me what to do ...
When Benazir bites my ass,
And the Pashtoons give me sass,
While Waziristan waits in the wings,
And suiciders throw everything
At my pitifully reduced powers
Even now, in The Nuclear Hour.
What's a poor dictator to do?
I figured YOU'd have a clue,
Though it's true you're busy stalking
That nervy Iranian who's balking.
Oh, I'm feeling a little bare
Standing here in my underwear.
I took it off for you.
Now tell me what to do!!!
ps, send Condi my love and these slightly used black calfskin gestapo boots.
**** Now to get that bad taste out of your mouth, click HERE for the lovely Crystal Gayle: Don't It Make My Brown Eyes Blue ****
