Meant to create, we dismember to satiate our insatiable appetites,
And the time we have been given is enlivened by the death we bring,
And we sing songs for flags wrapped round men of boundless egos,
Thinking we’re vigilant without blinking in the night of our own horror,
Looking for the restorer in the very one who has torn down all walls
Of decency, character and integrity with an unmitigated insincerity,
And so what should we expect now but confusion, exclusion, illusion
In profusion of ideas of revolution justified only by blatant falsification?
Is this what we have become now in the homeland of the free and brave?