The Cheney was born with the stars
The Cheney has always existed
It is the Cheney that rustles the grass behind you
As you walk through the dark woods
It is the Cheney’s eyes that you glimpse
Behind the hung clothes in the dark closet
The Cheney is it, that goes bump in the night and that hides under the bed
It’s passage bring goosebumps
The Cheney has always been here
They say
The Cheney is in the eye
Of the shot and dying once caged quail
The Cheney is in the eyes
Of the thin Iraqi child
As she she cannot sleep from hunger
The Cheney , so they say
Spies on lovers, but for a pleasure obscene
To catch them breaking rules
The Cheney bursts forth
In the explosion of sorrows in a drunken barfight when it has all become too much
In the lovers fist and the regret that follows the change
When it cannot be taken back
The Cheney lies in the dark, waiting, plotting, watching, stalking
Feeding on despair and brimming anger
Feasts on hurt and death and pain
And gnaws at the bones of our weaknesses
It sleeps in your fears
In all our fears
Where the sunlight never goes
The Cheney has always been here, so they say
That before one passes from this place
A new one must be born
It will always haunt our dreams
To show us what true meanness is
And now…. it wears a dress???