I read with some surprise today that Cat Stevens was taken from a flight and will be deported from the United States. This shocked me at first, and I began to rack my memory looking for some sort of logical explanation for the inescapable implication that Cat Stevens might be a dangerous terrorist. I mean, he has such a reputation for being a peaceful man.

At first, I couldn’t think of anything, so I decided to look up the lyrics to his songs. At first, they appear innocent enough, but after some examination, the darker, terrifying meanings behind some of his lyrics began to pop out.

Moonshadow [I've helpfully outlined the terrorist references for you to save you some time.]
Oh, I’m bein’ followed by a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow
Here, Mr. Islam is alerting other members of his cell that he was being followed by three suspicious CIA agents.

Leapin and hoppin’ on a moonshadow, moonshadow, moonshadow
Younger readers, avert your eyes. This is Mr. “Stevens”” graphic description of how he murdered the agents and desecrated their corpses.

And if I ever lose my hands, lose my plough, lose my land,
Oh if I ever lose my hands, oh if…. I won’t have to work no more.
These phrases, and the following ones, must be read carefully. The part preceding the ellipsis [...] describes how he’s planning to maim civilians, destroy private property, and detonate a dirty bomb to permanently pollute American soil. The part following the ellipsis is an oblique reference to his expectation to be in paradise as a result of his martyrdom in the above plot.

And if I ever lose my eyes, if my colours all run dry,
Yes if I ever lose my eyes, oh if…. I won’t have to cry no more.
This is more of the same terrorist rambling. Shocking, if you ask me.

And if I ever lose my legs, I won’t moan, and I won’t beg,
Yes if I ever lose my legs, oh if…. I won’t have to walk no more.
And if I ever lose my mouth, all my teeth, north and south,
Yes if I ever lose my mouth, oh if…. I won’t have to talk…
In this section, “Cat” graphically describes the torture he wants his colleagues to administer to any American civilians they kidnap. In the section following the ellipsis, he changes his tactics though, to throw anyone off. This time, he’s gloating in the limbless, mouthless tortured bodies of his prey.

Did it take long to find me? I asked the faithful light.
Did it take long to find me? and are you gonna stay the night?
This is Mr. “Stevens” doing some foreshadowing, in which he talks to one of his many virgins in Paradise after he successfully carries out his mission.

This is amazing. Mr. Islam was already a bloody, child-butchering terrorist way back in 1971. All I can say is, it’s about fucking time, Mr. Traitor Stevens. I hope you rot in Great Britain. Long Live Our Terrorist-Fighting Komrades!! Heil Bush!