My name's in the paper where I took the Army Scouts to hike
My hands are all dirty from digging trenches all night
The general came by and I talked for a minute with him
His eats in the mess hall and Osama's at the Qandahar Inn

And I know why he's there 'cause he's been there before
But I've decided that I can't wait anymore

I tried to ignore it but I know he's in there, my friend
My mind's on an ambush and Osama's at the Qandahar Inn

Next Sunday it's my turn to speak to the young cadets
They'll expect answers to all of their questions, I'll bet
What would they say if I told them Bush called us back in
And told us to leave Osama at the Qandahar Inn?

The Taliban is all gone and W thinks we can sleep
He must have known I had Osama right at my feet
The general's serving cookies to the troops at the mess hall again
I'm being sent to Iraq and Osama's at the Qandahar Inn

And I know why he's there....