The legend lives on from the Pentagon on down
of the big flake with chip on his shoulder.
The Colonel, it's said, made men wish they were dead
every time his heart seemed to get colder.

When they load up the ship, twenty-six hundred men's trip
was off to the war zone that's Iraqi.
Some against the war, others still standing for
but to all of them, Colonel was wacky.

These green were the crew of the red, white and blue
come from New York, Nevada, Wisconsin.
But even Mississippi didn't seem all that dippy
when they heard crazy Colonel's responsin'.

Concluding boot camp with a twenty-mile tramp
they were posted inside Baghdad's Green Zone.
But enlisted men knew, as the officers did, too
that where Colonel is, that's quite a mean zone.

The bullets speed 'round with a tatteltale sound.
Were they fired by Shia or Sunni?
It mattered not much, for their fears, they were such
they preferred it to C.O. who's loony!

The Colonel's great loves were the two rubber gloves
that he wore to check out the troops' lodging.
If one speck of dirt, someone's gonna get hurt
and their service, they'd wish they'd been dodging.

When suppertime came, the big loony called shame
for one man had blood on his shoelaces.
"But Colonel," he said, "it's from my buddy, dead!"
Now with toothbrush, he's cleaning the bases!

The Captain wired in he had exhausted men.
All the cleaning might leave them imperiled.
That was not so nifty: "Now drop, give me fifty!"
Even he was not safe from Fitzgerald!

Does anyone know, when they went on patrol
what had happened on overnight hour?
The JAG's office said that he ended up dead
with a heart attack inside his shower!

They might have covered up how the man really died
though that's not worthy of all those grown men.
They hated him so, and you might as well know:
The old b@$+@rd was shot by his own men!

A fusillade shot at the Arlington plot
from the honor guard of each branch of service.
It echoed in kind, but the men, they don't mind
for no longer will he make them nervous.

And six feet below, the flag-draped coffin goes.
It's surrounded by many a hero.
And o'er his remains is each man who complains:
"With Fitzgerald, our chances were zero!"

In a musty old hall at Fort Leavenworth they
are relieved that the freak's out of battle.
But chills run their spines for the six hundred times
of the inspections of Colonel Fitzgerald!

The legend lives on from the Pentagon on down
of the Colonel who left troops so gloomy.
"Fitzgerald," they said, "he deserves to be dead.
But my conscience is clear, go and sue me!"