Nobody believes me
Nobody wants me
Why won’t he come get me?
He knows I’ve got a short fuse
I used to be so much use
Give me back my headlines
Bring me back to the frontline
Don’t you dare say I’m old news
Come, come, I’ll make it easier to find me
I’ll even give you more clues
I miss you Bush baby
I’ve got the Al-Qaida Blues
No longer a favorite flavor
Sidelined by a noisy neighbor
Relegated to the unwanted
How sad, Osama grunted
Maybe after he gets Saddam
He’ll come back to me
The thing about men
They prefer the home-cooked meal
Till then, I’ll wait
And tolerate
This strange twist of fate
Of no longer being Bush’s pet hate
Is it no use?
Was I just a ruse?
Shit, I feel so used
Fucking abused
Babe, I’ve got the Al-Qaida blues
It’s all about attention
Of how to feel wanted again
I know what?
A revived Osama, exclaimed
I’ll just take down another plane
That should get his mind off
Fucking Saddam Hussain
I can’t take the pain
Of not being blamed
How about I kill a million Jews?
Nah, that’s old news
Sigh, I’ve got the Al-Qaida blues
