The Soothe Operator

(To the tune of Chuck Berry's "Memphis Tennessee".)

Go on, Gen'ral Hayden, find out who the traitors are --
The ones that always question, even though you wear a star.
Don't need to hear them talking, it's enough to track their call,
So no one will complain or see it's the writing on the wall.

Do it, Gen'ral Hayden, you are authorized to spy
With telcos' own call loggers and with pictures from the sky.
They may not call Al Queda, but from only six degrees
You can mine their data patterns, and we'll send them cross the seas.

Tell me, Gen'ral Hayden, if subversives want to know
Where Chinese food delivers and where pizza orders go.
Do they subscribe to cable? Does their plumbing need a fix?
Do ads in home-thrown papers tell them how to do their tricks?

Please say, Gen'ral Hayden, if they need to clean their rugs.
You can find out by computers and not plant any bugs.
This program's less than five years old; Guantanamo's not filled,
But you were working hard on that until the beans were spilled.

(Cross-posted to American Street.)