And he built a crooked house

There was a crooked man, and he won a crooked race,
with help from crooked judges, locked in crooked embrace.
And with help from crooked House, and crooked airwave friends,
they started a crooked war, one that never ends.

Then there were crooked landings, and crooked contractors too,
and our lives were overwhelmed with warbloggers, covering us in spew.
And when it came time to stop this, why what did we, the foolish, do?
We gave them trillions more, to toss in crooked stew.

It was always another six months, until the worst was through,
and then another six months, until all the lies were true.
But after every crooked year, it was always just the same,
searching all around, for someone for to blame.

Iraq is just the smoke, under which there is a fire,
rising out of oozing black, and corrupting crooked mire.
We've got to look in the mirror, and then we will have to see,
it isn't crooked politicians that brought us here.
It's only crooked me.