Wednesday, November 14, 2012

Blame It On Kabul

Loud thermobaric explosions at dawn, fill a man's heart with romance
Kalashnikovs crackling at dusk make him want, to go find some woman and dance
The scent of an improv explosive device wafts from the nose to the heart
From there it heads south to a bodily region where trouble has been known to start
Afghanistan's Capitol is such a place as feminine mystery abounds
With woman flesh covered in burkas it is fantasy's favorite town
With all the repressed sexuality there who might not behave like a fool?
Passion, deception, intrigue and betrayal let's just blame it all on Kabul

 Look at poor general David Petraeus he never stood one chance in hell
When into Afghanistan's heated milieu came super-hot Paula Broadwell
With a body as hard as an M-16 barrel and responsive to touch like its trigger
Broadwell's attention made Petraeus' ego and some of his other parts bigger
The CIA chief's secret love gives real meaning to the old term "gag rule"
But secrets, skulduggery danger and lies are just par for the course in Kabul

General John Allen is just one more guy caught up in the lust of the war
Testosterone mixed with adrenaline and made his heart burst with amor
The boom of the bombs and the boobs of the babe turned marital honor to jelly
And 30,000 documents later we know he fell for Jill Kelley
He general's rational mind lost the fight between it and has manly crown jewels
But once he arrived in the place he was done for everyone's crazed in Kabul 

It all seems so tawdry, puerile and low class that's why it's so darn much fun!
With each peeling back of the onion skin you think the good part's just begun
Sure they are four-star generals but fundamentally they are just guys
And we are entitled to any opinion about men except for surprise

But cut them some slack, let's save them some face let's make a new Golden Rule
 Thou shall not judge men who just follow hormones, especially when there in Kabul