A Tale of Bombs, Blame, and Bedtime Stories

And thanks for bombs that wrecked Gaza, one more time,
For helping me pin it on Iran, that’s the crime.
Let me spin you a tale, tuck you in, it’s bedtime.

We brand our foes as Evil, it’s our go-to spell,
Labels ready-made, we wield them well.
Terrorists, anti-Semites, animals, all on sale,
Every option laid out, no detail is too frail.

Let me share my plan, it’s all about me,
Survival’s the goal, friends, just let me be.
Uncle Sam sends dollars, bombs, arms endlessly,
Through twisted lenses, he pretends to see clearly.

I could quote the Bible, but that’s just for show,
It’s occupation versus civilization, as you know.
Accusation’s my confession, the truth’s on a low,
Decades of incarceration, yet you clap for the show.

I can’t breathe anymore, this noose is too tight,
Just nod as I blame, in the dead of night.
We’re criminals in truth, but that’s our plight,
Gentlemen in the headlines, painted in white.

We razed their homes, gave the order to shell,
Bombed schools, mosques, hotels—there’s more to tell.
Not just that, hospitals fell as well,
Thank you madams and sirs, for funding this hell.

Think this ain’t real? It’s all colonial play,
Joe helps me claim defense in the broad daylight.
Good man he is, though his words sway,
Supporting me, even when his talk’s not right.

They’ve killed with rage, Arab women, kids in their prime,
Gaza’s an open-air cage, living on borrowed time.
More deaths on the way, they’ve sworn the crime,
So we pinned badges of courage, in this bloody rhyme.

What in God’s green earth am I ranting about?
I’ll take you on a ride, no doubt.
But can’t lie about genocide, that’s out,
Humanity’s priceless, funds aren’t what it’s about.

They call it occupation, a regime of hate,
A racist dream, built on a bloodthirsty state.
Causing death, grief, and pain at every gate,
Yet I stand here, and you still wait.

And what I’m doing? A stand-up in disguise,
Playing the victim, that’s my prize.
But ouch, they’re burning me in effigy skies.

I love you and your hamburgers, that’s no bluff,
My soldiers loved U.S. Pampers, just enough.
No more Octobers, but we had our stuff.

And we? We’re the symbol of heroic grace,
Not apartheid or racist in any place.
Butter wouldn’t melt in my mouth, no trace,
From north to south, we’re the embraced face.

Why think I’m kidding? Grab the Times, take a read,
Ask the White House; they’re trying to lead.
But they need more training to follow my creed.

When I speak of Iran, my arms go weak, my mouth goes sour,
Let’s find a new land to devour.
Their might threatens our tower, hour by hour.

Victory’s near, but is it on my side?
Defeating the enemy where I confide,
But that’s not in me, so prayers I need,
And tax dollars so my plans can proceed.

We aim to make Gaza unlivable, our Nobel prize,
Then, find a new place to colonize.
Take the world back from the ‘infidel’ guise,
Make this region a five-star paradise.
Thank you; my lies have reached their demise.

Press TV’s website can also be accessed at the following alternate addresses:

www.presstv.ir