When Mullah Omar speaks to me
He speaks in terms of victory
And scorns the likes of those who demand peace
Where peace is just surrender-lite
And fear of darkness and the night
Lead western men to stop and holler “Cease!”
The Mullah often does relate
How Allah intervened his fate
When Ami drones were flying overhead
As racing in his car he feared
A missile soon would singe his beard
Yet missile never came as on he fled
He smiles now as he then recalls
How Ami lawyers had no balls
And cautioned that the missile be held back
For fear that someone might be hurt
And at this point he’s sometimes curt
In sneering at the courage Amis lack
In thinking that a war is won
By dropping warheads by the ton
While trying not to hurt a country’s pride
We fight the Ami to the death
We fight till we have no more breath
And soon the Ami will be Allah’s bride
We’ll win this war he says with scorn
For every death there’s ten more born
Who’ll grow to hate the Ami in his bones
We’ll take the fight to Ami’s shore
And show the light of Islam pure
And turn their cities into tumbled stones