The Despised Divine

I hate every day that I’ve failed to burn you in effigy
Oblivious to the tune of your lifestyle’s melody
Lyrics in the trees that hang so low that they mean nothing at all
Obsequious to you

Interpreting the wanton speech of your lyrical extremes
Clouded by illusions rising from waters like steam
Creating the rain clouds meant to drown the whole of time
Obfuscated by you

I’ve breathed in the wartime air beneath your liar’s smile
Coughing up the fires of desolation in my wake
It’s only fitting that I turn my rage to the despised divine
Obliterating you

Inspired By A White Stripes Song

Suffocated in a wounded soul
As I make my way down to Mexico
Meg White is breathing down my back
As Jack sings a song of Jericho
Not sure what I’m doing here
As I've never done the fame thing well
A bus ride to the Pearly Gates
Might as well be a bike ride to Hell

I fortified my southern wall
Just to keep out all the invaders
Put an ocean between you and me
‘Cause you act like a bunch of first graders
Oh, I’m sure I could tour the world
Play all the bars and finally make it
But I swear to God as my witness
That I will grow to despise my biggest hit

I don’t want negative attention
For things I do just for fun
I’m not a monkey on a leash
You can just parade out to everyone
I alone say how I’m going to play
And everyone else can kindly piss off
I’m hardly the kind of superstar
That won’t make you take a taste of Molotov

Sauron

The harsher cold of the fading light
Set the time to hasten the foreboding night
The time creeps in where the nightmares thrive
And we’re lucky to still be alive
We watch the sun fade into a darkened red
A sky filled with the blood of our ungrateful dead
We set here to watch the ever-faithful die
Trapped in the sight of the all-seeing I 

How can the cold consume us all?
Why can the cold destroy a soul?
Where does daylight grow to die?
Why must the darkness make us cry?

Dead leaves like a carpet underfoot
Destined to rot like infested wood
Bugs eat away at the life’s insides
Yet we dare to call it suicide?
As we lay and revel in our hell
Locked away inside a prison cell
No light shines in the concrete sky
Under the watch of the all-seeing I

Is impending death a righteous goal for you?
The winter breeds a cold long overdue
To leave us suffer under this spiteful song
From our hearts left frozen for oh so long

Bathed in the light of the all-seeing I
May be the last thing you will see before you die

November Looms

Welcoming a harvest moon
Nighttime children come into bloom
Soon the raindrops will concentrate
Encompass the world in a frozen dew

‘Til then, this fire will warm your heart
As your mind begins to embrace the dark
Second guessing second nature
As November begins to loom

Watching the colors fade into gray
Losing hope along the way
Winter breeds a death too soon
Perhaps even a bloodless coup?

I’ve watched a tyrant tear us down
As nighttime children gather ‘round
This fire burns inside you too
Desperate ages too late to bloom

The winter’s cold will soon embrace
Every heart that shall partake
In rendering a final word
As November beings to loom

Watching the colors fade to gray
Will hopes and prayers come to save the day?
Snowfall waters, a hopeless brew
Will I still drown here with you?

I’m wary of this blood red moon
A fear sets in as November looms
Can no one save us from Winter’s scorn?
Will any one of us live so long?

Ruth Bader Ginsburg Will Have Her Revenge on the United States

To bear a false witness
For a lack of resistance
And I will bear your cross no more
If nothing is moving
For the point that you’re proving
What is the point of your useless score?

Turn in your robe for a Handmaid’s gown
Subservience known the whole world round
Slave girl, who are trying to fool?
And I will have my revenge on you

You take up my body
As if you now own me
A commodity bred for breeding seed
This life now acknowledged
To your dominant bondage
Bound to reproductive slavery

Turn in your robe for a Handmaid’s gown
Subservience known the whole world round
Slave girl, who are trying to fool?
And I will have my revenge on you

Am I not human?
Just a televised Truman?
Is this how you wish to entertain
Your bought and sold masters?
Repeat your fathers’ disasters?
For a power your sisters could not attain?

Turn in your robe for a Handmaid’s gown
Subservience known the whole world round
Slave girl, who are trying to fool?
And I will have my revenge on you

Turn in your soul for a longer leash
A traitorous hag to patriarchy
Deliver a generational wound
And we shall have our revenge on you

Beholden

I am not beholden to anyone
You are not owed an excuse or explanation
If you feel you have been wronged
Take it up with someone else
I have just dismissed you from my conscience

I am no one’s sidekick or loyal servant
I am only loyal to what brings my ends
I do right because right needs to be done
But sometimes wrongs are righteous, too
And I have deemed you worthy of ignoring you

You are not beholden to decency
Thus why I dismiss you eternally
Enjoy your days as far away
As I stay here in a blissful haze
And no one will ever need to bother you

I am not beholden to anyone
You are not my master or my employer
Why would you want to follow
When you can forge your own road?
I owe you nothing, so leave me be

Dorothy Jane

I’ve watched you in the window as you spoke to the Man in the Moon
Wishing I had someone as interesting to talk to as you
With your light southern drawl and your innocent love
Of the simple things, small, private, and yours alone
If only I could be as close to you as the Man in the Moon
In the quiet things that no one ever knows
As we tell ourselves the tales of ordinary days
I dream of you with the Man in the Moon
Sitting together at night by your window
Sharing our stories, our thoughts and our dreams
Hoping that someone out there is listening to us

As we profess a love beyond ourselves

Into the night's sky, never to be forgotten

Opposite Lovers

I’m living from left to the right

Between the Heavens and Hell

Inside me, there’s a tornado

That could tear my world apart

I could be disassembled

Then put myself back together

But would any of that matter

If I were to lose my heart?

I dream of resolution

As if peace were mine to hold

I am longing for justice

Just to find my needs ignored

What is the opposite of love?

Could it be truly hatred?

Chances are I’m overthinking

Maybe you’ve just gotten bored

We are opposite lovers

Too far apart to be absolved

How could I know if I’d love your soul

Inside the body of another?

I don’t know who you are

I’m not a mystery to solve

But your absence leaves me cold

As I’m sure you’ll soon discover

Accountability

Why the hell is it so hard to hold murderers accountable for their actions?
Why are we so willing to do just about anything BUT hold murderers accountable?
We'll change names
And recast voice actors
And pull questionable episodes
And paint murals on streets
But we can't hold murderers accountable for their actions?

What the hell is wrong with us?

My Stepdad, The Wanna-Be Cop

My former stepdad was a police fanboy, but he never had the guts to follow through with it and go to the academy. To what should come as no surprise to anyone whatsoever, he was a shiftless, lying, cheating, financially irresponsible, racist thief who sexually assaulted several women and cheated on my mom the entire time they were married. And this fuck up thought he was qualified to be a cop.

Sadly... He probably was.

Radio Dreams: True Dreams of Wichita

True Dreams of Midwestern bliss

Lost among the flyover states

In the rare places where freaks like me gather in droves

Like the Beetopia from the Blind Melon video

I finally found a place where people like me exist

… except they don't

True dreams of Leavittsburg

I could never return and call that home

Because home was never a place I had been

Only the places I could imagine in my dreams

I never felt as if I were permanent

I was always just passing through

The people who are here today

Would be gone by next week

Nothing is permanent

Nothing is stable

Nothing gold ever stays

But neither does anything else

True Dreams of Youngstown

And I'm stuck with all I've got

Dreams come to die here

Chances are, I will, too

The only stability here is the inevitability of failure

That's why everyone tries to run away from Ohio

No one stays here because they want to

We stay here because we can't afford to go home, anymore

Except that Ohio was always home, I guess

Maybe that's why it never felt that way

True dreams of Wichita, and I have no concept of it

All I know are gray skies, football, and trailer parks

I've spent my entire life believing that I was just passing through

But Ohio won't let me leave you

Until it takes away ever last possible dream

I may ever have of Wichita

Dick Pics

Nobody wants a picture of your dick

I feel like I have to keep saying this

Because you keep sending me these pics

And these pics are making me sick

I don't want to see your dick

I don't want to see MY dick

I don't want to see anybody's dick

So stop sending me your damn dick pics

Dick

A Message from a Vampire Named Daphne

Eternal youth

Carnal bliss

You look to us as if we are some romantic gift

Pining to save you from the clutches of time

Moments before, you begged to be embraced

But faced with the truth, you run away

Because there is no eternity for you

We are not the creatures of myth you romanticize

We are not the cunning Lestat

Giving you the choice that he never had

To be frank, we don't find you all that interesting

You thought that we'd be some eternal moping teenager

Pining for one true love to stay by our side forever

Most of us can't even stand one another

Let alone the ceaseless whining of the so-called “living”

“Oh please, take me away from my mundane existence!”

Trust me, in one hundred years, you'll understand

You have yet to experience what true boredom is

Living in a waking dream that humans call “decades”

Watching all the living creatures run around you like children

What would a god have to discuss with an ant?

What would the eternal have to discuss with the finite?

We have seen empires rise and fall,

Civilizations thrive and crumble

We have been here through the centuries watching

As the mortal whispers of the past become the distorted prophecies of the future

Your kind obsesses over eternity

But you can barely handle the moment before you

We were once much like you

Begging our betters to save us from mediocrity

Throwing ourselves, often quite literally, into the arms of infinite darkness

Believe me when I say that this is not something you truly want

This is not the lifestyle you want to believe this is

We are not eternally beautiful, young and promiscuous romantics

We are the Pantheon of Infinite Boredom

And you are merely toys in which we play with to pass the time

You may believe that Edward will love you forever

But forever among your kind is but a few years, at best

Too many of us have made the mistake of embracing out of love

Virtually all of us have abandoned those mates for younger mortal models

Learning the lesson that you have refused to accept

Nothing is forever, even for those frozen in place in time

Enjoy the moments you have, for there are precious few

We will never, ever embrace you

One Less Barbie

The only thing I ever did to bother you was exist

Yet I'd feel your fist through all of my days

The eyes meant to keep watch were always closed to me

Until this injustice had its fill

Your gilded path will guide you home

Across the backs of folks like me

One day soon, I may refuse to be your yellow brick road

Will the Wizard still want to fly you home?

We're all just Mean Girls in our dreams

With plastic skin over hollow souls

I'd scalp your hair with the brush packed in

One less Barbie, one less sin

If God were female, we'd be free

Instead we're left under lock and key

This ecosystem is meant to fail

One less Barbie, one less sin

The only thing I ever did to scare you was exist

Was it boy loves girl or girl loves girl?

It never mattered how your friends read me

Your eyes were always closed to dreams

They'll drag me along this road of thorns

I'll leave a trail of blood to mark my past

One day soon, I may choose to stab you in the back

But I'd rather stab you in the face

I'm just a Mean Girl in your dreams

A villain cast to absolve your sins

Your friends chose their victim well

One less Ken doll, one less myth

I once believed that Lilith lived inside me

But Adam saw an end to that

Yet you still can't fully drown out her voice

One less Ken doll, one less myth

The only thing I ever did to bother you was exist

Now, we're all just Mean Girls in our dreams...

ASMR

Eyes wide shut

As I melt into her consciousness

A flooding rain of ambient sounds

Lulling me into a sense of waking sleep

Auditory erotica of the simplest kind

She speaks softy to me

As I drift into the silence

That exists in between her whispers

A tapping of alpha-keratin

Between my shoulders

Underneath my neck

The closest I've experienced to intimacy

In what feels like centuries

I've only ever wanted

Whatever of these sensations are real

To be the recipient

Of this unconditional love

Validation of this need

For physical contact

Combined with emotional support

If only this touch was real

Not through a monitor

But from a partner

I need these sounds to help me sleep

To simulate the melding

Of two souls as one

I need something deeper than sex

More encompassing than friendship

Something beyond real

That you can only find

In the silent moments

In between the noises

Of wind and hushed voices

Of shallow breathing

And softly-spoken affirmations

Love isn't something that you make

It's what exists between the lines

In the quiet things that no one ever knows

Where nothing

And everything

Intertwines

Another Song About You

I could have been better if I never met you

Could have slept sounder if I never kept you

So close to my heart

At the very start

Of my love

I would have been better had I never cared for you

Would have felt better had I never wanted to hold you

To be taken apart

At the gate of my heart

I fall in love with you, greater still

With every thorn you stick into my side

With every last thought of love's deep divide

I mourn your loss like a lover's touch

Once denied, never to be felt again

You drift away from me like a dream

Soon to be forgotten with the morning's waking

As if you never were

While I'm left here and waiting

For the memory of you to return to me

Of everything I ever loved about you

Instead of all this seething hatred

I wake from a nightmare, screaming that you had left me

But you were never there to abandon me from the beginning

Each knife you stick into my heart-shaped rib cage

Pierces vital organs, but never truly penetrates them

These daggers to the soul shatter me more and ever more

Until all I have left of you is a broken, gas-lit memory

Of a woman who could never afford me the courtesy

Of leaving me with a sense of indemnity

I hate the way my soul is sickened

Every time I dig up my memory of you

If this is love

Then only hatred could sooth this wretched soul

I'm exhausted by this external torment

And the internal damage that has been done

This ring of fire burns my soul

Like hell hath fury of the woman scorned

But I was the woman scorned, not you

Yet you feel nothing for me

No fury, no hate, no regret, no shame

You get to live happily free of every possible last memory of me

All I was to you was a momentary annoyance

An offensive sickness you couldn't run from fast enough

Yet you will remain the scar on my soul

Of the things desired, once lost, and never to be felt again

120 Minutes

I am the only one who lives for Sunday

It comes on at Midnight

No one else knows

The sounds of bands that live left of the dial

Sometimes, they might get airplay for a while

But most of the time, they're only here for Sunday

I'd burn through more than one VCR

Taping the memories of bands and songs

I may only see once on a Sunday Night

And may never see again

I'd play and replay, and replay even more

Until the tapes couldn't take it anymore

They were never meant to take such abuse

I'd hold on for years, waiting and searching

To see their names on the shelf of a record store

Just to know that they were real

I'd burn through more than one VCR

Replaying the memories of bands and songs

I would only hear once on a Sunday Night

And would never hear again

I didn't spend my summers hanging out with friends

You have to have friends to even hang out with

All I had was Sunday for 120 Minutes

Every band I wish I could be in

Being the things I wish I could have been

Playing late on MTV, only here for the hardcore

Not Alternative Nation, but even further left of the dial

You might hear me on a college station if you get reception

Sandwiched between the Replacements and Pavement

I might be big in Canada and you would never know it

Because I only existed on Sunday Nights

Burning through more than one VCR

Keeping the memories of bands and songs

That no one would hear on a Sunday Night

Faded away into nothing

Faded away into something lost

Faded away on a VHS

Faded away into a memory

Of Sunday Nights here on MTV

Dead Tranny on SVU

Bare chest to undermine her gender role

Dead before the open credits roll

That’s what we are to you

Hookers, dead victims and pitiables

Laverne earned her name in a prison show

Caitlyn bought her fame

And sided with those who would

Rather see us as dead than human

Where’s your rainbow?

Got this hair on my chest

Sometimes, I could care less

Shave or Wax for rashes

Mascara for eyelashes

An ass that’s fit for drilling

But my dresses are ill-fitting

This man is just not my type

Yet he sees me as a trap

Rad-Fems scream about privilege

Never once considered

How we hide in closets

To avoid the violence

You wear baggy clothes to avoid

We all carry keys like claws in hand

Mace and a whistle for times of need

Men want what they can’t have and claim a need

We’re both susceptible

She would love to kill me

If she couldn’t be me

I would love to make her

A better wife and savior

But we just cannot agree on

Anything that matters

She’s a TERF who lies with Sappho

And I’m just a fag in drag

Bare chest to show us she is not she

Raped in the first scene

Her dying breath is off screen

Now you check her out on PornHub

Looking for a good tug

Just can’t get enough of…

… never mind

Mansplainer

A passing glance of wicked ambition

She takes the stage

Smiling as she greets a bloated figure of spoiled indulgence

She proceeds to let him dominate the conversation

As if his ideas had merit

She responds by conceding her defeat

And watches silently as he claims her ideas as his own

Invisible Woman, never meant to be seen or heard

For when she speaks, her words become the void

Give the words to a man

And he's praised for his prestigious insight

But let a woman speak... 

Dear You

Dear You,

They say you should never meet your heroes

They'll only disappoint you

I've only known about you for a little over a month

But I admired you

Which only made what you really had to say about me that much harder to process

I was a captive audience for you the night before

You had my undivided attention

But I guess I should have known when you couldn't be bothered to get off of your phone

That you had no use for me, my words or my world

Dear You,

I feel like you blocked me because you were ashamed to tell me the truth

That you lacked the strength of your convictions

And only felt safe speaking your true feelings when you knew I'd never see them

Or maybe, you simply didn't care if I ever found out

Well, I did.  Friends of mine made it their place to be your messenger

I honestly wish they hadn't

But at least now I know the truth about you

Or at the very least, the truth about how you see me

Dear You,

I'm not afraid to tell you that I was in awe of you

It's one thing to see someone from afar, be somewhat familiar with their work

It's an entire other thing to sit in the same room approximately three feet apart from one another

You were even better than I imagined

I was completely enamored by you

All I wanted was for you to be a small part of my life

I've met many great people through poetry

I was hoping to add you to that list

To keep in contact and hope that some of your greatness might rub off on me

Or, at the very least, to be able have a nice chat every now and then

None of that will happen, now

You've made it clear that you want nothing to do with me

And I'm more than willing to oblige you

Dear You,

The night we first met, I had a few kind hours of beautiful thoughts

Exploring possibilities that, while unlikely, were nice to indulge in

I want to thank you for shattering those visions so decisively

Few have ever had your level of brutal mercy to that end

I want to hate you, but I can't.  I have no desire for it

Friends say that they hope you're not as single-dimensional as I have cause to believe

But I've coaxed this level of disgust out of others before

You needed no such coaxing

I finally know the truth about you, how you operate, how you deal with others

My heart will eventually mend, but I fear yours will remain as poisoned as the day we met

Fraud

I've worked very hard for my zen

So, it should come

As no surprise

Whatsoever

That I have a rather low tolerance

For those who try

To throw off said zen

Your words

Have more power than you know

But your methods

More than your words

Were the most egregious

Of your sins

Put bluntly

You are a coward

And a fraud

And I have no use for either

Your false masks

The pageantry of pleasantry

These things

Mean nothing to me

And I have no intention

Of letting you skate free

On my watch

Ever again

I have a memory like an elephant

And hold grudges like a jackal

My words to you

Are like Wolverine's claws

Adamantium

Slashing through

Your false pretenses

With no forgiveness in sight

I am going to remember you

Your open cowardice

Your crude retorts

And I will strike hard upon you

The very moment

That you believe

You have regained

My good graces

Pray

That my memory of you dies

Before our paths

Ever cross again

No good will come to you

If

Perchance

I am to remember

Bad Romance Part II

She kills me in the moments of lapsed judgment

I'm going behind friends' backs in order to keep in contact

They all say that she's a liar and there's little to dispute that

She is an irresponsible child but I just can't keep her off my mind

There are no winners in this game I'm playing

Even if I get what I want, I could lose almost everything

She may not even be worth the effort I'm putting into this

But my rational mind won't intervene long enough to stop me from doing it

Loneliness can feel like a curse if it goes on long enough

There comes a point where you'll take stupid risks just to know if love can still happen for you

I know she's a risk with a history of broken hearts that trail behind her

But how much of that trail is real, and how much of that is the exaggeration of jilted exes?

That's how I justify this, by not knowing both sides of the story

By believing that there's more to things than what my friends are saying

Because I observe all of these things from a third-person perspective

And I understand the biases in place which creates fractured truths from objective facts

She kills me in the moments when I let my judgment lapse

She may not even realize, yet, why I've chosen to keep in contact

No one ever seems to know when I'm making a blatant move

Maybe I'm just as much a liar as her exes claim that she is

Here I am, ready to take advantage of a girl that takes advantage of everyone around her

Something says that I really shouldn't do this, but the voice isn't strong enough to put an end to this

The rational mind that usually intervenes has gone on vacation

I move on bad judgment, poor instincts, and a complete disregard of others' advice

She kills me in the moments where better judgment dies

A deadly game that no one with sense should ever want to play

But that's the catch of having romantic urges

Logic is the enemy of everything the heart longs for

Especially her

Mushroom Delusion (Super Mario Bros.)

Tripping mushrooms

Growing ten miles high

Crushing fungus underfoot

Paratroopers of flying turtles

Raining egg spikes and fire flowers

Walking in a dream world

Where raccoons can fly and turn to stone

Where frogs are suits and hammers have brothers

Chase a dragon for a Peach or a Daisy

Turn the first letter of your name upside down

To fight your evil clone over 6 golden coins

Or maybe, just maybe

Start your day as an Arabian Family in a Doki Doki Panic

And end that day as a pair of Italian plumbers

Who just happen to be brothers

Fight a giant ape to save your girlfriend one week

Fight an army of turtles the next

Try to save the environment

With a water-shooting backpack

While your brother plays Ghostbusters

With a vacuum in a Haunted House

BOO! 

Better keep a look-out

Turn your back and you just get attacked

Want a pet?

Here's a dinosaur

He eats almost everything

Or would you rather have a hat

That swaps your mind with Bullet Bills?

Wait...

Bullet Bills?

They have names, too?

Jesus Christ, what kind of trip is this?

Someone, call me a doctor

I got red, yellow and blue germs

Picking at my brains

Rotting my insides

Turning my soul into mush

Wait...

Turns my soul into mush?

Mush, as in “mushrooms”?

That thing that gives me all these extra lives?

Am I really just eating the dead souls

Of past versions of myself to stay alive?

No...

That's just crazy!

I just ate a mushroom that turned me into a giant

Now I can punch walls

That's not crazy at all!

The Christmas Recital

I went to my nephew's Christmas Recital a while back.  I was in a theater full of parents. And parents with parents. And parents with parents of parents. There were a lot of parents there.  I can't remember the last time I was in the same room with this many parents, and being there, in that moment, was very... odd. Like, I have nothing in common with everyone in this room. They're all parents of kids, most of them are married, and can apparently afford to have their kids in art programs and then see those kids perform. For the first time in a very, VERY long time, I'm around a bunch of parents. Straight, cisgender, middle class, conservative, mostly white, suburban parents. And their parents. And their parents' parents. For 2 hours. As children sing Christmas Carols, looking about as enthused to be there as most kids who don't find performing to be much fun. It's a school thing. They worked at this for months for this 10 minutes of glory as this assemblage of parents cheer, wildly.

In this strange environment that's probably perfectly normal to most people, my mind begins to wander, and I begin to ask myself questions. Questions like, "who thought up the concept of clapping? Who decided that this action of slapping our hands together was a way to show appreciation for something? And how come this never seems weird to anyone? What would folks from another planet think of clapping? Would they think it's strange? Would they ask us why we do it, and would we even really have an answer?"

Never mind the ongoing feeling that I have, screaming through my every last nerve that "I really, REALLY don't belong here. These people are too normal.”  I don't know if I'm on the verge of a full-on panic attack or what, but I kept feeling like my entire body was trying to reject the mere concept of me sitting here in this room with all of these nuclear families.

Then, even more questions come up. Now they're personal ones, like "when did you realize that the suburban mom and dad thing wasn't in the cards for you? When did you realize that was something you could never be? Why do you feel so damn uncomfortable in here? Is it because you're directly in the middle of a society you've been desperately trying to escape your entire life?"

And then, we get the existential crap - "Why are you even here? What exactly do you want out of life? Is that even achievable? Because, right now, you're looking around this room hoping there's a single mom, because GOD DAMN you're lonely.... but even then, they're all straight. and cisgender. and BORING. And they have kids, and you... you probably don't really want kids that badly. You'd rather be in a good and secure position before even THINKING about kids, and to be honest, I don't know if that's ever going to happen, because you're a thing the world can't easily process. Your existence is a revolution you never wanted to fight."

And then we come to the root of all of this - "why can't I just be normal, like everybody else? Why can't I have this?"

Because, apparently, I'm not meant to.

Taylor Preston

I fell in love with Taylor Preston in seventh grade

I met her at a baseball game in '93

Our sisters were in Little League, on the same team

We'd run off to the playground just across the street

I always dreamed of kissing her underneath the twisting slide

Comb my fingers through her ember-reddened hair

Guide my hand between her thighs, her burning flame

Forever entwined in a frozen frame of endless time

Three weeks later, she'd fall out of a tree

She wouldn't walk again until next February

In less than a year, she had forgotten all about me

And moved on to some other guy that I could never be

I fell in love with Taylor Preston in seventh grade

I would have been her anything, had she asked me

Still to this day, I see her there inside my mind

Waiting for me underneath the twisting slide

I dream that I am kissing her, like she was mine

But life and love are funny things when you lose time

I've given you a thousand years worth of regrets

For this girl I met in seventh grade I can't forget

Three weeks later, she'd fall out of a tree

She wouldn't walk again until next February

In less than a year, she had forgotten all about me

And moved on to some other guy that I could never be

Twenty years later, she still lives in my dreams

And I'm 12 years old, underneath that dreaded tree

Hoping that I'll catch her, so we can finally see

If we were ever meant to be more than momentary

Spray-Tanned America

Get Red or Get Dead, everybody, go to bed

Kim Jong Un just got himself a warhead

Trump's in the White House, we're in the Poor House

White folk talking 'bout Nazis like they're Mickey Mouse

Caging up immigrants, snatching up all their kids

Sell 'em to white folk living up in Norfolk

Institute a travel ban, send 'em to Pakistan

Spend a billion dollars to institute some space cops

While telling poor folk to stop buying cell phones

You can either eat or you can have healthcare

You can't have both, so poor folk best beware

Spray-Tanned America is kind of a shit hole

“I don't really care, do u?”

I didn't think so...