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My America I am to trust.  Why, what's all the fuss?

My homeland security, my land of absurdity,
My streets paved with gold and blood.
My soaring, smoking towers, my transmogrified presidential powers,
My incendiary democratic(?) brotherhood.
 

My America I am to trust. Why, what’s all the fuss?
Where is that bright dream and promise?
 

My white neighbors strengthen, my blue families weaken,
My red suburban wasteland continually replicates.
My fingertips of expedience, my web-savvy convenience,
My fire-breathing, flag-waving, warmongering state.
 

My America I am to trust. Why, what’s all the fuss?
Where is that bright dream and promise?

My media’s leftist agenda, my media’s rightist agenda,
My middle men and women all kept confused.
My elected (un-)officials, my power-seekers in scandals,
My blazing words hurling all sorts of scathing abuse.
 

My America I am to trust. Why, what’s all the fuss?
Where is that bright dream and promise?

My lame ducks in rows, my (reality?-based) nightmarish shows,
My consumerist, conventional, guaranteed trash.
My starving fellows on the street, my land of plenty to eat,
My ever-burning, ever-printing, green-backed cash.

My America I am to trust. Why, what’s all the fuss?

Where is that bright dream and promise?

My brothers lie bleeding, my sisters lie bleeding,

My rainbows are shot crimson by hate and prejudice.

My colors all matter, but too often they're splattered,
My heart aches from ceaseless gross injustice.

My America I am to trust. Why, what’s all the fuss?

Where is that bright dream and promise?

My eyes are heavy, but my fingers are mighty,
My repugnant, reviled, “un”patriotic reproof all but done.
My country shakily stands as, through the neck, slip the sands,
My words, my tools, my only true American weapons.

My America I am to trust. Why, what’s all the fuss?

Where is that bright dream and promise?

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