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LATE BREAKING NEWSJust heard US has captured Osama Bin Ladin!! The US planes sprayed Afghanistan with Viagra and the little prick sprang up.
'Twas the night before Payback and all through the Land,
They're running like rabbits in Afghanistan,
Osama's been praying, he's down on his Knees,
He's hoping that Allah will hear all his Pleas.
He thought if he killed us that we'd fall and Shatter,
But all that he's done is just make us Madder.
We ain't yet forgotten our Marines in Beirut,
And we'll kick your butt, with one heavy Boot.
And yes we remember the USS Cole,
And the lives of our sailors that you bastards Stole.
You think you can rule us and cause us to Fear,
You'll soon get the answer if you live to Hear.
And we ain't forgotten your buddy Saddam,
And he ain't forgotten the sound of our Bombs.
You think that those mountains are somewhere to Hide.
They'll go down in history as the place where you Died.
Remember Khadhafi and his Line of Death?
He came very close, to his final Breath.
So come out and prove it, that you are a Man,
Cause our boys are coming and they have a Plan.
They are our fathers and they are our Sons,
And they sure do carry some mighty big Guns.
They would have stayed home with children and Wives,
Till you bastards came here and took all these Lives.
Osama I wrote this especially for You,
For air mail delivery by B-52.
You soon will be hearing a thud and a whistle,
Old Glory is coming, attached to a Missile.
I will not be sorry to see your ass Go.
It's Red, White, and Blue that is running this Show.
Twas the night before Christmas, he lived all alone
In a one bedroom house, made of plaster and stone.
I had come down the chimney, with presents to give,
And to see just who, in this home did live.
I looked all about, a strange sight I did see,
No tinsel, no presents, not even a tree.
No stocking by mantle, just boots filled with sand,
And on the wall pictures, of far distant lands.
With medals and badges, awards of all kinds,
A sobering thought, came to my mind.
For this house was different, so dark and so dreary,
The home of a soldier, now I could see clearly.
The soldier lay sleeping, silent, alone,
Curled up on the floor, in this one bedroom home.
The face was so gentle, the room in such disorder,
Not how I pictured, a United States soldier.
Was this the hero, of whom I'd just read?
Curled up on a poncho, the floor for a bed?
I realized the families, that I saw this night,
Owed their lives to these soldiers, who were willing to fight.
Soon round the world, the children would play,
And grownups would celebrate, a bright Christmas day.
They all enjoyed freedom, each month of the year,
Because of the soldiers, like the one lying here.
I couldn't help wonder, how many lay alone,
On a cold Christmas eve, in a land far from home.
The very thought, brought a tear to my eye,
I dropped to my knees, and started to cry.
The soldier awakened, and I heard a rough voice,
"Santa don't cry, this life is my choice;
I fight for freedom, I don't ask for more,
My life is my God, my Country, my Corps."
The soldier rolled over, and soon drifted to sleep,
I couldn't control it, I continued to weep.
I kept watch for hours, so silent and still,
And we both shivered, from the cold evening's chill.
I didn't want to leave, on that cold, dark night,
This guardian of honor, so willing to fight.
Then the soldier rolled over, with a voice soft and pure,
Whispered, "Carry on Santa, it's Christmas day, all is secure."
One look at my watch, and I knew he was right.
"MERRY CHRISTMAS MY FRIEND, AND TO ALL A GOOD NIGHT."
