A blast from the past--Merry Fitzmas! Treason's Greetings!
This collection of jolly Fitzmas carols is culled from Daily Kos and Democratic Underground, October 2005. The expression Fitzmas was first used on Democratic Underground to refer to the eagerly awaited day on which Patrick Fitzgerald would recommend indictments of various high-level Bush administration people for their role in outing the undercover agent Valerie Plame. WHIG =White House Iraq Group. The reference to aspens turning in autumn at the same time (because they are connected at the roots) refers to the series of people turning on their connected buddies who were linked in the project of selling the Iraq war for the White House at any cost.
And what a wet firecracker all that turned out to be. Still, the occasion brought an unusual florescence of DU creative hijinks, worth celebrating even today. Most of these are the result of extensive collaboration, and I picked and chose my own favorite versions, often combining two or more. Posting in Good Reads because of not anticipating a lot of discussion.
O Aspen Tree
O Aspen tree, O Aspen tree,
Your roots are all connected.
O Aspen tree, O Aspen tree,
Your sources aren't protected.
How shall we sell the war to them?
Just send some lies to Judy M.
O Aspen tree, O Aspen tree,
Your roots are all connected.
O Aspen tree, O Aspen tree,
Your leaves are turning yellow.
Fitzgerald’s nailing Karl Rove
And other nasty fellows
Who lied to get us into war.
He’ll throw the book at media whores.
O Aspen tree, O Aspen tree,
Your leaves are turning yellow.
"Plame!" the White House Sources Say
"Plame!" the White House sources say,
"Wilson's wife is CIA!"
"She's the one who booked the trip
"To debunk the Niger tip."
Slowly now the Aspens turn!
Fitz has energy to burn!
He'll flip the sources from the WHIG,
Turn this into something big!
"Plame!" the White House sources say,
"Wilson's wife is CIA!"
Hark, the rotten traitors choke
Caught up in the lies they spoke
In the court they're standing tall
Facing jail time one and all
Now they spin and tell more lies
Wingnuts make up alibis
Crooks and liars every one
Fitz has got them on the run
Now they're hung they've got no hope
Karl ol' boy, don't drop the soap.
Don't Rest Ye Merry Democrats
Don't rest ye merry Democrats
Although they booked DeLay
Remember that indictments
Will come on Fitzmas Day
To save us all from Bush's hacks
Who led us all astray
O charges of treason and more
Treason and more
O charges of treason and more
From Karl Rove and Libby too
The name of Plame did slip
Once Wilson proved the liars wrong
Back from his Niger trip
Behold the rot that caused the leak
On Bush's sinking ship
O charges of treason and more
Treason and more
O charges of treason and more
To Rove the Great Deceiver
And Libby, Cheney's bitch
The plan to sell their pointless war
Went off without a hitch
But Karl's just a conjurer
And Scooter’s just a snitch
O charges of treason and more
Treason and more
O charges of treason and more
Patriots can speak freely now
That Rove is behind bars
And Cheney's booked, and Libby's done
For starting groundless wars
Our press will come alive again
But not without its scars
O charges of treason and more
Treason and more
O charges of treason and more
Good Fitz will throw the book at them
Or so my sources say
Hark! The time has come at last
To make these traitors pay
Our flag will stand for freedom now
On glorious Fitzmas Day!
O charges of treason and more
Treason and more
O charges of treason and more
The Little Leaker Boy
"Plame" they told them
pa rum pum pum pum
"She is fair game" they said
pa rum pum pum pum
The lamest smear they wrought
pa rum pum pum pum
And thought they'd not get caught
pa rum pum pum pum
rum pum pum pum
rum pum pum pum
So to slander him
pa rum pum pum pum,
Wilson's name.
So Fitzgerald
pa rum pum pum pum
Investigated them
pa rum pum pum pum
"I have no axe to grind"
pa rum pum pum pum
"For sure the truth I'll find"
pa rum pum pum pum
rum pum pum pum
rum pum pum pum
"Oh, they'll sing for me!"
pa rum pum pum pum
"to stay free."
Cheney plotted
pa rum pum pum pum
To hide his Iraq lies
pa rum pum pum pum
So Libby outed spies
pa rum pum pum
And Judy shilled for them
pa rum pum pum pum
rum pum pum pum
rum pum pum pum
Now they frogmarch on
pa rum pum pum pum
Fitz's work is done.
Do You Know What I Know?
Said the Ambassador to the New York Times,
"Do you see what I see?
In the Niger docs, New York Times?
Do you see what I see?
A lie, a lie, it sure looks like a lie
With an arrow that points to the Prez,
With an arrow that points to the Prez."
Said the Veep to the White House Iraq Group,
"Did you read what I read,
In the New York Times, mighty WHIGs?
Did you read what I read?
A threat, a threat, this is quite a threat
We must somehow not let it live!
We must slip this Wilson a shiv!"
Said Karl Rove to the pundits on TV,
"Do you know what I know?
In your studios, pundit friends
Do you know what I know?
A wife, a wife, Wilson has a wife --
And she spies for the US of A,
Yes, she spies for the US of A!"
Said Bob Novak to the people everywhere,
"Listen to what I say!
In the CIA, his wife works --
Listen to what I say!
A spy, a spy, Wilson's wife's a spy,
And Karl Rove says she’s 'fair game',
And Karl Rove says she’s 'fair game'"
Said the Shrub to his minion Karl Rove,
"What the hell did YOU do?
Blabbing to the press, Karl Rove?
What the hell did YOU do?
Shut up, shut up, we must both shut up,
I know nothing and neither do you.
I know nothing and neither do you."
Said Joe Wilson to the people everywhere,
"Do you get what THEY did?
Acts of treason, people everywhere!
Do you get what THEY did?
A frog, a frog, marching like a frog
That's how Rove should vacate his job
That's how Rove should vacate his job!"
Fitzmas Night
Fitzmas night, sleepless night,
Fitz is going to indict
Round yon White House, rumors are wild
Cheney's lawyer is on speed-dial
Bloggers are going to feast
Bloggers are going to feast.
Fitmas night, sleepless night
Wingnuts quake on the right
Indictments stream on Fitzmas day
Bloggers cheer "Hip-hip-hurray!"
Felons reap what they sow
Felons reap what they sow.
Rove’s Nuts Roasting on an Open Fire
Rove’s nuts roasting on an open fire
John Law snapping at his toes
Federal indictments being read by the hour,
And perps dressed up in prison clothes.
Everybody knows those turkeys in a prison cell
Would help to make the season bright
Fiendish plots had their eyes all aglow
But they'll find it hard to sleep tonight.
They know Fitzgerald's on his way
With big indictments in his attaché
And every one of us will crack a smile
To see Dick Cheney put away for awhile.
And so I’m offering these simple words
To all those neocons who choose
Not the truth, but to lie through their teeth
"Merry Fitzmas! You lose!"
Ode to Joy
Freude! Miller got the fuckin'
Daughter of the New York Times.
WHIGs entwined like roots of aspen,
All will go down for their crimes.
Scooter Libby has been busted;
Karl Rove has screwed the pooch.
Treason must not go unpunished;
Chickenhawks come home to roost.
O Little Town of Washington
O little town of Washington,
How still we see thee lie.
The folks below
Don't seem to know
That Fitzmas day is nigh.
The grand jury is weighing
Indictments `gainst these crooks.
Hopefully, we soon will see,
Fitzgerald throw the book!
Karl Rove, the Bald-faced Liar
Karl Rove, the bald-faced liar
Never gives the truth a chance.
He, Scooter, Bush and Cheney
Have to wear asbestos pants.
They sold the country on war,
Based on fraud and forgeries.
They lied to us and Congress,
They're awfully good at perjury.
Then one crisp clear autumn day,
Fitzgerald came to town.
"Karl Rove and your whole cabal,
You all are going DOWN!"
Then how the rats did scurry!
Everyone was jumping ship!
Karl Rove, I hate to tell you,
All the other Aspens flipped!
Away in a Jail Cell
Away in a jail cell, no plea for his bids
The little Lord Cheney is now on the skids,
George Bush in the White House shall not thee now save
Oh little Lord Cheney, you sniveling knave!
The aspens are turning, oh, Hannah hath spake,
And little Lord Cheney in his boots doth quake.
I loathe thee Lord Cheney! Come down from on high,
And stay in your jail cell till your time is nigh.
Goddam you Lord Cheney, we pray that you'll stay
Locked up in your jail cell ‘til your dying day!
And damn all your cohorts, seduced by your charms,
Oh take them down with you, and do no more harm!
Go Tell It on the Mountain
Go, tell it on the mountain,
Over the blogs, through cyberspace
Go tell it on the mountain,
Karl Rove's goose is cooked!
While wingnuts kept on spinning
And Judy was doin' time,
Behold to the grand jury
Was revealed a heinous crime.
Refrain
Go, shout it from the rooftops,
Down in the bayou, Baghdad, too!
Go, shout it from the rooftops,
Dick Cheney's time is through!
George Bush he joked and jittered,
When lo! above the spin,
Rang out the big indictments
That did those bastards in..
Refrain
Down in a DC courthouse
The aspens did suborn,
God sent incrimination
That blessèd Fitzmas morn.
Refrain
A Frog March Together With You
Just hear those hand cuffs jingling,
Ring ting tingling too
Come on, it's lovely weather
For a frog march together with you,
Outside indictments falling
While friends are calling "Screw you,"
Come on, it's lovely weather
For a frog march together with you.
Giddy up, giddy up, giddy up,
Let's go, Let's eats lots of crow,
They said it couldn't happen, but now we know.
Giddy up, giddy up, giddy up,
It's grand, Just cuffing your hands,
We're gliding along with a song
Of a justice fairy land.
Rove's cheeks are nice and rosy
And comfy cozy in jail
He's snuggled up together
With a guy in prison named Nail
Let's take that road before us
And sing a chorus or two
Come on, it's lovely weather
For a frog march together with you.
Walking in a Beltway Wonderland
Pundits talk, are you listening?
On Rove's brow, sweat is glistening.
A beautiful sight,
Fitz will indict,
Walking in a beltway wonderland!
In the meadow we can build a snowman,
And pretend that he is Traitor Bush.
We'll call him unindicted co-conspirator,
And then we'll start to kick him in the tush!
Can’t you tell, we're excited
Just to see who's indicted
Those who have clout,
Will be frog-marched out,
Walking in a beltway wonderland!
O Come All Ye Liberals
O come all ye liberals
Joyful and triumphant!
O come ye, o come ye, and watch them go down.
Come and behold them--
Bush and Cheney's minions--
O come let us abhor them, o come let us abhor them,
O come let us abhor them
Libby, and Rove.
Sing, all ye snitches,
Sing in desperation--
Rejoice, all ye citizens of heaven and earth!
They will be goners,
We will say, "I told you so"--
O come let us indict them, o come let us indict them,
O come let us indict them.
Right to the top.
I Saw Three Shits on Fitzmas Day
I saw three shits perp-walking in
On Fitzmas day, on Fitzmas day
I saw three shits perp-walking in
On Fitzmas day in the morning.
And who were they, these shits all three?
On Fitzmas day, on Fitzmas day
And who were they, these shits all three?
On Fitzmas day in the morning.
The traitorous turd met his demise
On Fitzmas day, on Fitzmas day
His cuffs and leg-irons were oversize
On Fitzmas day in the morning.
Libby the liar begged for bail
On Fitzmas day, on Fitzmas day
As he was frog-marched off to jail
On Fitzmas day in the morning.
Losing his Dick caused Bush much pain
On Fitzmas day, on Fitzmas day
His lying crew saw the end of their reign
On Fitzmas day in the morning.
Karl got run over by an AG
Karl got run over by an AG,
Right inside the White House Fitzmas Eve.
You can say there’s no such thing as justice,
But even Scooter Libby now believes.
He’d been mostly living off his hubris,
Though they really hoped that it had peaked.
He forgot that somebody was watching
When he leaked and leaked and leaked and leaked.
When they found him Fitzmas morning,
After he was canned,
He had Fitz prints on his forehead
An indictment in his hand.
Oh-h-h-h, Karl got run over by an AG,
Right inside the White House Fitzmas Eve.
You can say you don’t believe in justice,
But now I think I’m willing to believe.
Carol of the Fitz
Hail to the Fitz, on high he sits
Soon he will say, “Busted today”
Fitzmas is here, crooks must appear
Singing like birds, their lying words
”I did no wrong,” that is their song
Yet do they sing of wrongdoing
We seem to hear words so unclear
From everywhere, filling the air
But they’re flipping, and Fitz will bring
Charges severe - Fitzmas is here
Merry merry merry merry merry Fitzmas
Merry merry merry merry merry Fitzmas
Though liars spin on without end
They can’t atone, covers are blown
Ding-dongs ding-dongs, ding-dongs ding-dongs
Ding-dongs ding-dongs, ding-dongs ding-dongs.
Hail to the Fitz, shredding to bits
All of the lies we do despise
Fitz knows the score of the postwar
Fitzmas is here, justice is near….
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