You can cover up the shooting of another land for oil
You can call them all “terrorists” and marketise their toil
But you can’t cover up the shooting by your own son
Born and bred in the “land of freedom”
Who will you lie to next?
Who will you tell “it’s alright!”
“We’ve found all the baddies
So you can sleep at ease at night”
Well, we’re all baddies in here
So shed your presidential tear
Tell us it goes beyond politics
Whilst praying on fear
With consumer culture
And media vultures
Through celebrity sculptures
Who will speak of the disease,
The abscess so absurd
Of a youth so neglected
That they’d kill just to be heard?
And will you mention the guns
The NRA home run?
Or will it all just be forgotten
Till they kill your own son?
Blog owner, singing/strumming person, word speaker, community arts make-happen-er, eco-baby.