(instrumental intro)

It's high time... that we impeached him; we despise him.
No longer gloats; Bush mismanaging his oil war.
His staff... waiting to depart; now start to leave him.
Bush pissed off the world so many times before.

For high crimes... let's break Mr. Smirky; bring down curtain.
Let's end their sleaze; stop this bunch; throw out his cabal.
And he... will surely groan... when it's for certain...
Bush will fall... that's all...

It's high time... this Fake is sent home-a... back to Crawford.
Won't land softly; his fall will bring him low.
He'll still try... but he can't think... power will leave him.
Serve time for crimes, if tried, the courts will show.
The Shrub has to go... Bush and cronies blow!