Dick Cheney, night and day you torture me.
I sometimes wonder if this dwelling time under
Can someday be a felony or violate comity
In one-world court suit when accusing starts.

Your peace departs
From the moment you say, "Can't shove or strain";
And you'll surrender, though small our arms again.
This wretched flea that tortures me is agony, misery, pain!

Commander-in-chief floats above,
Bans harsh treatment by CIA.
Your spies have to answer for dreaming up
Those tortures for schooled lips that never pay.

This year that abusing will end,
No matter the hell we intend.
To make you believers, we'll rise to achieve.
It's only the Jihad we love.