Remember that day of the phony "Mission Accomplished"
day, when thinking people viewed him in that jump suit with that extra crouch stuffing, and when your face turned
so red you felt liking ducking under anything available?
Well, here comes my writings about it, READY?...be brave...
be very brave...

You strutted on Lincoln steel;
not knowing what lay behind that thin-lipped-corporate-gah-gah-smile

Offshore a fool's victory you did declare
A vulture's feast you ushered in
as many sulfur dances engulfed both air and skin

What rooster pride you strutted on Lincoln steel,
while bulbs exploded in heated flare

How I remember you took that flight,
with a pseudo-manly-stuffed-buldge you said, "I 'm all right!"

In nightmares I see your faking smiling grin, as houses crashed
and innocent died, as flames created a reddened sky

Halloween-cowboy, flyboy-suit, a monster lurked on Lincoln
steel
And so, bulbs exploded in heated flare to land upon a nothing stare, to land upon a nothing stare,
to land...upon...a...nothing...stare

There's so much praise and adoration,
Plaguing those across the nation.
But I can see what's behind that pained face:
Just rotted meat packed on a scorned disgrace.

Oh, what a wretched situation,
When to not be flawless breeds condemnation.
But when they're gone they won't leave a trace,
Just flesh-toned pastels and overpriced lace.

We must finally see there's no correlation,
'Tween real beauty and commercialization.
There might actually be hope for social grace,
When we all can see behind that painted face.