Sergeant Major Brown : A Dedication

Eisenhower and Swartskoft, good Germans one and all
Must lead a Rathskeller Putsch, to save America from beyond recall
Alas Ike has been dead since Saigon's fall
The other shits in a bag attached to his colon wall
For this is no time for a liberal sermon
America needs a leader precise as a German
So we voted for Crusader Rabbit but got the Cowboy instead
Because something was broken, and floating loose in our head
But as the blind Milton said for all to hear
Where no hope was left, was left no fear
The results not withstanding this election year
Never-the-less in first week of November, hope remained
But we got a coup de theatre instead of a coup de main
With everyone pointing fingers at whose to blame
Now the Bush Administration will have its say
By fiat, diktat, and coup d' autorite
A manifest example of this was the call out list
To the veterans of the Vietnam War
Most of whom were thoroughly pissed
At the prospect of another combat tour
So when the official envelopes arrived in the mail
Nearly everyone went anal retentive and pale
Except Veteran Brown, the last true Alpha Male
Who spends his time getting juvenile offenders out of jail
Just worried his drink was going stale
Deftly pulled the tab on another 16 ounces of Balantine Ale
A Catholic Charities Family Counselor of late
Must now tender his resignation and once more step up to the plate
Because Jesus and The President say return to duty and except your fate
For the Jesuit Fathers are predisposed
To lable a Christen who doesn't kill heretics an Emperator without clothes
George Brown was not stupid, and took the view
This was some twisted back version of Corinthians Two
Still this ex-prep school boy was no traitor to his class
Even when the Jesuit Fathers had fondled him after mass
So he put away his rosary and forgot about Zen
Time to blow off the dust and read Nietzsche again
Now told the enemy is a raghead this time instead of a slope
But to war with America, you must be on dope
Always ready to praise the Lord and pass the ammunition
George did have a seditious thought
That oil revenues were below maximum manumission
But this wasn't the time to dwell on oilwells
Better to be like the Navy at General Quarters and answer all bells
With patriotic alacrity George joined the crusade
And found himself veteran platoon sergeant in the Pops Brigade
Not so long ago he zippoed hooches and shot up sampans
Now he yearns his marching orders from that Yalie skull and bones man
Once more in the heat of combat you'll be living large
For all the Gen X, Y, and Zs will be calling you Sarge
In the hot deserts sands you'll demonstrate the old courage and determination
And never hesitate to sacrifice the command for big oil and Haliburton
Now don't go ballistic if things go atavistic
In the commissary of the Quartermaster Corps
Should a suicide bomber blow all his gore
In a sunburst patten all over the ice machine door
Sarge can handle his booze neat in this stinking heat
Like the schnapps swillers of the old Africa Corps
And remember that night in Dong Ha,
When this sort of thing happened before
Now this cantankerous old man with the deep craggy neck
And the three days growth
Who prefaces every command with a filthy oath
That Sergeant Rock of Korea and World War Two
Has morphed into Sergeant Major Brown
Senior NCO of this modern American Zoo
Whose job it is to bring out the natural born killer in you
So give no quarter, show no mercy, compassion, or tolerance
We're simply not there to be another T.E. Lawrence
For Sgt. Brown wanted to nuke Mecca and fry their ass
Turn all those wogs into shadows and their sand into glass
Make them all martyrs and send them to heaven
A butcher's bill with interest for 9-11