He's been missin' goes the story even thought was dead,
Three fourths a year they been huntin' for his head.
This Sunday in some hole so dark and crude,
On up out the ground we pulled this evil dude.
(Spade that is, black ace, Iraqi)

Well the first thing you know they're shootin' in the air.
Iraq folk want him be tried right there.
No Guantanamo is he ever gonna see
Let them try him there in Baghdad and hang him from a tree.
(High that is, rope that fool, shoot that Czar)

Well now it's time to say goodbye to Saddam's ugly skin,
We just want to thank our troops for ropin' him on in.
They wisked him off that old farm-stead to some locality,
Now he's gonna get a taste of his own mortality.
(Hey he won't come back now, ya hear?)