Ibm aq abu musta jahisc moblab suwami qal sniti, barumbi tanaji ikn kinh zaflamid ouches
boumboum carash yawi zawi pudinanpawi, haoduz yir gahdin growe.
Gitt thufuk oudam ifaz, lim ba pygboi sukon midik u peesa shite.
Translation:
Laying here looking at the ceiling, someone lays a sheet across my chest
Something warm is flowing down my fingers, pain is flowing all through my back.
Life is flowing out my body, pain is flowing out with my blood
The sheets are red and moist where I am lying, God in heaven teach me how to die
Moments after having breathed his last, a crowd of exuberant Iraqis gathered in the streets and began to chant:
"Abu Musab al-Zarqawi"All this while doing their latest dance craze, "The Twist".
(to the tune of "My Favorite Things")
Bombdrops on Moses and whisky and kittens,
bright copper cattle and war's wooden shippins,
brown paper packages tied up with strings,
Abu Musab al-Zarqawi.
Cream-coated yonies and crisp penile strudels,
Gore bails and slay hells and schnitzels on poodles.
Bombers that fly with "Rev. Moon" on their wings.
Abu Musab al-Zarqawi.
Girls in white dresses with blue satin burkas
snowflakes that stay in my nose and mind circus,
silver white weapons that melt anything,
Abu Musab al-Zarqawi.
When the Bush bites, when Cheney stings,
when I'm feeling bad,
I simply remember Musab Zarqawi,
and then I don't feel so mad.
Bombdrops on Moses who whispers to kittens,
bright copper cattle and war's wooden shippins,
brown paper packages tied up with strings,
Abu Musab al-Zarqawi.
