Don't Pile On Me 'Bout Katrina
(Sung to the tune of "Don't Cry For Me, Argentina" by Madonna - from the musical, "Evita")

Click HERE for MIDI music

As sung by clueless Emperor Dubya, the Master of Disaster, to Bushie loyalists, stunned by his plummeting polls for the bungled response of his administration to Hurricane Katrina:

(instrumental intro)

This job's not easy; can't think; in pain.
When I lie, I just drain my appeal.
Bushies, I'll need your love, after all I ain't done.

You don't believe me?!
All you now see is a world that's now screwed?
I know Brown's mess-up has defined
No fixes for current issues.

I had to let it happen, I refused to change.
Got my way all my life; how I feel.
Looking out for rich friends, though; there's a war to be won.

Iraq chose freedom.
Ignored the sound of the anti-war view.
Katrina made mess of it all.
I never expected it to....

Don't pile on me 'bout Katrina!
Keep truth hidden; it's no virtue.
So I took five days... to come from Texas.
New Orleans promised... fed'ral assistance.

My bad misfortune, for I'm to blame.
Forever blighted, can't win
Now it seems to the world: cronies, all I've hired.

I'm disillusioned!
More spin's not the solutions they promised to be.
My answers were fear and more slime.
I love you, and hope you love me.

Don't pile on me 'bout Katrina!
Keep truth hidden; it's no virtue.
So I took five days... to come from Texas.
New Orleans promised...

Don't pile on me 'bout Katrina!
Keep truth hidden; it's no virtue.
So I took five days... to come from Texas.
New Orleans promised...

(instrumental break)

Fed'ral assistance...

(instrumental break)

What I dread so much...
The country's sore; said I stink; they hate me, too.
So what I have to do is cook up more war, and slow
My poll fall, or I'm screwed!

Don't pile on me 'bout Katrina!
Keep truth hidden; it's no virtue.
So I took five days... to come from Texas.
New Orleans promised...

Don't pile on me 'bout Katrina!
Keep truth hidden; it's no virtue.
So I took five days... to come from Texas.
New Orleans promised... fed'ral assistance.

(instrumental break)

Fed'ral assistance.

(instrumental ending)