We cowered in terror and hid ‘neath our beds   In a foetal position curled   For just two hours on Saturday Dick Cheney was running the world   Dick Cheney was running the world   We prayed to all our various gods to see us through this fix   On Saturday for two hours the finger on the button was Dick’s   The big itchy finger was Dick’s   President Dubya had it easier under blissful anaesthesia   With a camera up his bum, it’s alright for some!   He’s ok, they found no tumours, and do not believe the rumours   Most malicious and unfair that they were looking for his brain up there   But while W snored with his nethers explored unconscious and content   We chewed our nails warily as temporarily Cheney was President   Dick Cheney was president