Ferskeytt

Bombs

Bombs are falling on the land
Brought from overseas.
The Devil's curse upon the hands
That made those foul machines.

How can you face your fellow man,
How can you meet your family's gaze,
When children’s blood still stains your hands,
Will you dare to show your face?

Our Leader

Only he can save us all,
Our brave and fearless leader.
Alas, he only cares for golf,
And taking cash from bottom feeders.

Our country could be great again,
Our wealth beyond report,
If only all those noble men
Enjoyed another sport.

Only the Best People

Liars, cheaters, sycophants,
Lickspittles every one,
Taken from across the land
To work for our fortunate son.

Each one thinks they have a plan,
Easy wealth, a path to fame,
But in the end this venal man,
Brings them all to shame.

Tyrant's Stroke

Fear no more the tyrant's stroke.
Frown at the “great man,”
Whose strength goes up in empty smoke
When united we stand.

Fear no more the coward's plan,
Foolish and unjust.
Each of these unworthy men will
End their days in dust.

Blame it on the Commies

He didn't do it,
And if he did, he wasn't the first.
It’s fake news,
And if it's not, then your side did it worse.

It was the Deep State,
Conspiring with insidious liberal agents.
Outsiders working to kill the myth
Of our blameless President.

I want to believe
The truth is out there.
I want to believe in eternal life.
I want to believe in youth and beauty,
And that politicians never lie.

I want to believe
The truth is out there.
I want to believe the lies.
I want to believe in America First,
And in Deep State Leftist Commie Spies.

In My Lifetime

In my lifetime,
The leaders of my birth country
Have fought a dozen wars
To liberate:

The oil
From the ground
Of a foreign nation;

The wealth
Of a dictator,
Mourned by no one;

The people
Oppressed by a tyrant
Who was first armed by my government;

Women
Subjugated by a different tyrant,
Who was also armed by my government.

We've fought a War on Drugs,
And a War on Terror.
But no one wants to give
Peace a chance.

My beautiful country
Where we have no money for food,
Or healthcare,
Or housing,
But endless funds
For the tools of destruction.

Where we have no money for science,
Or education,
But can give a blank check
To any rich fool deemed
Too big to fail.

Is it any wonder
That so many people have given up
On the dream of self government?

The greater wonder is that anyone
Still believes in it at all.

The fools,
The dreamers,
Who still hope for a better world.
Who can still imagine a future
Where liberation isn't just
Another word for ownership.

What would this world be like
If we didn't have
People like them?

And what could this world be like,
If we were all like them;

If each of us were allowed
To dream again?

When can we start dreaming again?