I'd Like to be a Terrorist

I'd like to be a terrorist, with funds that never stop

From the Arab sheikhs down to the local traffic cop.

Appears to me that money from these guys out in the sand

Is pouring by the millions into many a bomber's hand.

They tool around in Audi's and eat the best cuisine

While they tell their bankers that they're very cruel and mean,

And want to blow up buildings in the land of infidels –

Just as soon as they've invested in some more oil wells.

Oh, I could be a terrorist – I'm virile and I'm  young;

I'd seek out that Obama and then stick out my red tongue!

Wouldn't that just be a noble terroristic act?

Long as by cold hard cash I am completely backed.

I'll need some plastic surgery and airfare to Paree,

Where I'd feast on truffles bathed in pints of finest ghee.

And then I'd go to Disneyland or maybe London town

Where I could give the British Queen a terrifying frown.

The Brits would not recover until I was on a yacht,

Sailing to Antibes where a bungalow I've bought.

Give me half a chance, you sneaky bastards with the cash,

And I can turn the world into a screaming, roiling hash.

But if you think I'll risk my neck for only Paradise

Without some compensation you've got brains like small white mice!