The liar sits on the edge of his bed
Thinking about another lie to be said
A lie about Bush, Cheney or Rice
Any such lie would be very nice
The liar lays down on his bad back
Repeating the hate-filled liberal attack
The facts in the case mean nothing all
Since in the end he can always stonewall
The liar wears a stone of silence so cold
Dangling from his neck as a chain of gold
As the facts filter in to his hate-filled brain
He kicks back and begins to abstain
The liar stands alone on the rail
Overlooking the dark heat of hell
Will he now admit to his own lies
Or simply remain silent as he dies
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