Fighting Begins (With profound apologies to the Counting Crows)
[For future use]

Bush assures Saddam it's war or exile
But I am not worried, I am not overly concerned
My friend implores me "It won't just be this time only, don't make an exception"
I am not worried
Wrap me up in a package of lies, send me off to a Kuwaiti isle
I am not worried, I am not overly concerned
With the status of the resolution
"Oh," I hear, "The world's changing" But the world's always changing
And it does not bother to me to say that this isn't war because if the people want us
To liberate them then this isn't war and I guess I'm going to live with that
but I'm sure there's something shady and gray 'bout this
Something that's missing, but I don't want to hurt my country, if that's what you mean
Bush assures Saddam it's war or exile
I am not worried, I am not overly concerned
You try to convince yourself with things you try to argue, to make yourself all numb
I am not worried
"If it's war" you say, "then we're going to have to think about the consequences"
I can't stop disagreeing, you can't stop reading the Times, but this time
When bombs fall like rain and blow limbs away, the fighting will begin to change my mind
"These days when I am hoping for peace leave me asking questions for days", she says
"And I'm not ready for that sort of thing"
Yet people are beginning to break and are starting are worry about it now,
Though some are never going to bend, others are going to break.
They're worrying about it now.
...It seems like I should say, "As long as this is war..."
but it's not all that easy so maybe I should tear myself up in butterfly ballots
Or pin the blame on the oil companies
I am not worried, because
...I've done this sort of thing before but then I start to think about the consequences
because I don't get no sleep in a quiet room and...
this time, when the bombs fall away, I will begin to change my mind
and every time I hear Bush I believe it's war
Oh Lord, I'm not ready for this sort of thing
I'm talking in my sleep, the horrors keeping me awake, though Bush does not begin to toss or turn
his every word is nonsense but I understand and...
Oh, Lord, I am not ready for this sort of thing
...his boldness bangs a gong. It's moving me along
And the fighting begins to be all too real
it's chasing me away. They disappear and
Oh, Lord, I'm not ready for this sort of thing.

ESA (20030317.1)

P.S. John Marlan Poindexter is a convicted felon. Finals are hell.