93 lines
4.1 KiB
Plaintext
93 lines
4.1 KiB
Plaintext
'Twas the Night Before Christmas '89 in Panama
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Twas five days before Christmas
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when all through the land,
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fingers were itchy, and called for a stand.
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The C-41's were loaded with care,
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In hopes Noriega would be blind to this dare.
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"A surgical strike would work fine and be quick."
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said an advisor who briefly felt sick.
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"Delta force could be in and out in a blink!"
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Said another advisor as he mixed a drink.
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"But the economy sucks, and we need a war!"
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Cried Danny with glee as he entered the door.
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"And with abortion out, there's too many folks,
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so let's have a war, where are the Cokes?"
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So George waved his hands in a mystical fashion,
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and looked up from his desk with unusual passion,
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"Peace doesn't work for corporate powers,
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there's no profit in having Lockheed grow flowers.
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Hughes stock has been dropping like a lead ball,
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Let Manuel know we're coming,
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Now dash away all!"
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Panamanian Children
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were snug in their beds,
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Feliz Navidad played in their heads.
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When up in the sky there arose such a clatter,
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Children leapt from their beds,
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when windows started to shatter.
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Up to the mountains Manuel flew like a flash,
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While the U.S. forces turned his HQ into trash.
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The flash of the flares on the newfallen dead,
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gave the luster of midday to pools of new red.
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When what to wondering eyes did appear,
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20,000 young troops armed with God and fresh fear
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With a leader who slept, miles from the push,
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a point of light by the name of George Bush.
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More Rapid than eagles his Hugheys they came,
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soundly thrashing the bad guys, playing their game.
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While back in a hotel where civilians did stay,
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protection was naught, ignored in this fray,
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to protect Americans was the reason it's said,
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but hundreds were wounded, nineteen were dead.
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Manuel thumbed his nose at a great world power
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he outsmarted George Bush in his finest hour.
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So George figured out he couldn't catch this man
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and put a price on his head, maybe someone else can.
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So while people here still live in the street,
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George spent our money with a lively beat
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for nothing more than an unsuccessful fight
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as he was heard to exclaim:
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"Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night!"
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Why did George hunt this rat with a gun?
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I know that a trap would not be as much fun,
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or quite as fast, or show off his toys,
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but what about those nineteen young boys?
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Did they have time to question other available ways,
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that would not have them missing their last Christmas by days.
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Please don't tell him that there are drug dealers in Atlanta.
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I live here, and don't want to be invaded.
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Copyright 1989, by Robert Stottle
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Another file downloaded from: NIRVANAnet(tm)
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& the Temple of the Screaming Electron Jeff Hunter 510-935-5845
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Rat Head Ratsnatcher 510-524-3649
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Burn This Flag Zardoz 408-363-9766
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realitycheck Poindexter Fortran 415-567-7043
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Lies Unlimited Mick Freen 415-583-4102
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