Peter Graedel (gelöscht)
A very good morning, Mr. President.
Your handsome smile full of Pepsodent,
hints at good tidings for the righteous ones.
Let’s hear of the goodies you have dreamed up by chance.
Are any new dangers confronting us overnight?
Did many new links on the evil chain emerge?
How many governments shall today we purge?
Wow! What – the Swiss dare to deliver Ovaltine,
to the rebels in the south of the Philippines!
That’s not acceptable, because…, because it’s not right.
A blatant infringement on our trade!
Why don’t they slurp our Gatorade?
You don’t say!
This information is from the CIA.
And absobloodilutely reliable for a change.
From a janitor working there on the shooting range.
A Filipina, whose cousin in Basilan,
has heard of a witness in Afghanistan,
who has clearly seen on the video screen,
a rebel allegedly drinking Ovaltine.
What are your orders, Mr. President?
Shall we bomb the Swiss around the bend?
They might be stubborn in their Tora-Boras.
A ground invasion may be needed – alas.
If united with the Chinese we march rather sooner than late,
The Swiss may consider to capitulate.
And if – God forbid – they should win,
we shall also drink their Ovaltine,
before they conquer our homeland,
and sell cuckoo clocks in Disneyland.