Well I tried to tell you four mosques, but I got so damn depressed
That I set my sights on car bombs and I got myself undressed
I aint ready for Hurriya but I do agree there's times
When a stringer sure can be a friend of mine

Well, I keep on thinkin bout you, Kathleen's golden goose surprise
And I won't exist without you; can't they see it in your lies?
You've been one poor correspondent, and I've been too, too hard to find
But it doesnt mean I aint been on their minds

Will you meet them in the middle, will you meet them on the air?
Will you hide me just a little, just enough to show you dare?
Well we tried to fake it, I dont mind sayin, you just cant make it

Well, I keep on thinkin bout you, Kathleen's golden goose surprise
And I don't exist without you; can't they see it in your lies?
Now you've been one poor correspondent, and I've been too, too hard to find
But it doesnt mean I ain't been on their minds

Will you meet them in Hurriya, will you meet them on the air?
Will you secrete me just a little, adopt a smug, pedantic air?
Well we tried to fake it, I dont mind sayin, you just won't make it

Dewey Bunnell rides again!!!

On the first part of the journey
I was looking at all the news
There were mosques and cars and rocks and things
There was stories and hills of beans
The first guy I met was a cop with a buzz
In a seat with no wheels
His reports were long and and the other wires were dry
But on the air they was full of squeals

I've wired from the desert from our cop with no name
It felt good to be out of the strain
In the desert you can't remember your name
'Cause there ain't no one to impede your domain
La, la ...

After two days in the desert sun
Burning mosques began to turn red
After three days in the desert fun
In my lies I had made my bed
And the story I told that the kerosene flowed
Made me sad to think it was read

You see I've wired through the desert with our cop with no name
It felt good to be out of the strain
In the desert you can't remember your name
'Cause there ain't no one to impede your domain
La, la ...

After nine days I let the cop run free
'Cause the stories had turned to screeds
There were mosques and cars and rocks and things
there was stories and hills of beans
Hurriya is a desert with reports underground
And a perfect disguise above
Under the AP's lies, is agenda aground
And the stringers will give no love

You see they've been through the desert on a cop with no name
It felt good to be out of the strain
In the desert you can't remember your name
'Cause there ain't no one to impede your domain
La, la ...

Dewey Bunnell rides again!

Hey Bob--

Looks like Jamil Hussein DOES exist (link).

And he's being arrested for talking to the media.

300 billion, 3000 lives, and this is what it's come to?

You rule.