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25th A NOW.Parody site.
Mercenaries in South America again. What could possibly go wrong?The goal is to reassure oil companies that their assets can be secured long term without a large U.S. military presence.
Security firms with regional experience—potentially including groups linked to Trump allies—are already positioning themselves.
Oh Blackwater, keep on rolling …
Sorry - didn't see that. Great minds?...Funding mercenary armies in South America
What could go wrong?
I sure do wish this song would get outdated.
Nuclear arms in the Middle East
Israel's attacking the Iraqis
The Syrians are mad at the Lebanese
And Baghdad does whatever she please
Looks like another threat to world peace for the envoy
[Verse 2]
Things got hot in El Salvador
CIA got caught and couldn't do no more
He's got diplomatic immunity
He's got a lethal weapon that nobody sees
Looks like another threat to world peace for the envoy
Send the envoy
Send the envoy
[Bridge]
Whenever there's a crisis
The President sends his envoy in
Guns in Damascus
Woah, Jerusalem
Yeah
Also this one:I sure do wish this song would get outdated.
Nuclear arms in the Middle East
Israel's attacking the Iraqis
The Syrians are mad at the Lebanese
And Baghdad does whatever she please
Looks like another threat to world peace for the envoy
[Verse 2]
Things got hot in El Salvador
CIA got caught and couldn't do no more
He's got diplomatic immunity
He's got a lethal weapon that nobody sees
Looks like another threat to world peace for the envoy
Send the envoy
Send the envoy
[Bridge]
Whenever there's a crisis
The President sends his envoy in
Guns in Damascus
Woah, Jerusalem
Yeah
Take all your overgrown infants away somewhereAlso this one:
The Eastern World, it is exploding
Violence flaring, bullets loaded
I'm old enough to kill, but not for voting
Don't believe in war, what's that gun you're toting?
Even the Jordan River has bodies floating
But you tell me
Over and over and over again, my friend
How you don't believe
We're on the eve of destruction
Don't you understand what I'm trying to say
Can't you feel the fears I'm feeling today?
If the button is pushed, there's no runnin' away
There'll be no one to save with the world in a grave
Take a look around you boy, it's bound to scare you, boy
[. . . ]
Ah, you may leave here for four days in space
But when you return, it's the same old place
The poundin' of the drums, the pride and disgrace
You can bury your dead, but don't leave a trace
Hate your next door neighbor but don't forget to say grace
When you cast your eyes upon the skylinesTake all your overgrown infants away somewhere
And build them a home
A little place of their own
The Fletcher Memorial Home For Incurable Tyrants and Kings
They could appear to themselves every day
On closed circuit TV
To make sure they're still real
It's the only connection they feel
(And now, adding colour)
("Who's the bald chap?")
(A group of anonymous Latin-American meat packing glitterati)
Did they expect us to treat them with any respect?
Safe in the permanent gaze of a cold glass eye
Their favourite toy
They'll be good girls and boys
In the Fletcher Memorial Home for Colonial Wasters of Life and Limb
Is everyone in?
Are you having a nice time? (Goodbye!)
Now the final solution can be applied