I have these two songs. I don't know quite how to submit stuff like music in sound or staff but I'm working on it.

The Axises of Evil
to the tune of Agathella Station

1. Of all the world's ills there is none that's more evil,
More gruesome or dread than the terrorist threat,
The President says that they're really awful people,
And when he's not grinning, you can tell he's upset.

CH: We'll march off to war like good little soldiers,
We'll march off to war for President Bush,
Until we destroy all the axises of evil,
For there's freedom to fight for and a lifestyle to push.

2. George Bush is angered by the death of civillians,
He finds it outrageous like anyone would,
So when he kills thousands and speaks about collateral,
He's not being callous, you've misunderstood.

3. Now some bombs are dirty and cause mass destruction,
But our bombs are smart and they'll solve all our woes,
Starvation and grief might appear to be a crisis,
But really we're helping as everyone knows.

4. To help foster peace we'll use words like "Islamist",
To make it appear that they're all so extreme,
Whereas our church is pure and could never be corrupted,
And of world domination, it would not even dream.

5. So send us your chilldren, we'll fight against terror,
And suchlike emotions that lay people low,
We'll fight them with guns and with lots of bloody slaughter,
But don't ask who's winning or how long to go.

and then to an original tune:

Come on then, conscript me!

1. There's a rumour of conscription hanging 'round at No. 10,
But no-one's been on telly with the how and why and when,
Nonetheless I found I fretted, but only for a while,
And then I started thinking, with a slightly crooked smile:

CH: Come on then, conscript me! You'll wish you never did,
I'm a can of worms, be my guest, take off the lid,
For war's a game for powermongers, not for folks like me,
And if you force it on me, watch how peaceful I can be.

2. I'll chat about the havoc war will wreak on people's lives,
And I'll ask who'll tell their girlfriend about raping Muslim wives,
I'll call it Gulf War Syndrome every time I have a cold,
And I'll answer "Whose life is it?" when I don't like what I'm told.

3. I'll talk so much of bums that all the men will think I'm gay,
But even if you ask I won't be certain either way,
I'll never fail to squeak and jump each time the sergeant yells,
And I'll never learn to shoot a gun or launch a mortar shell.

4. I'll rant about the biosphre and how we're all just one,
A living planet powered by the brightness of the sun,
I'll sew patches on my uniform of rainbows doves and trees,
And I'll skip instead of walking and I'l march with wobbly knees.