Bedouin man’s chance of rain, looking out across the plain,
Dig you a well, dig like hell.
Dig these Baghdad blues, stuck inside sand-soaked shoes.
Draw a map to suit the book, leap high before you look.
Koo ka koo ka koo ka choo, I am he and so are you
To be unmanned and shit-canned.
Dig these Amman blues, paying some dead man’s dues.
A leader has been picked for you; vote now, cheer on cue.           
Building boats for Bedouins, petticoats and violins,
Castle moats and lions’ dens.
Putting stock in cosmonauts, peddling pop to tiny tots,
Fiddle while the world rots.
While we miscommunicate, demagogues will masturbate
All over you because you’re you.
Dig these remnants up, camel bone and china cup.
What a way to live your life, draw your pistol, cock your knife.