I stare across the hillside with a loose-button stare
Wondering if polar winds would sweep us asunder
Why mad men wear peace-suits and a superficial glare?
Politically-stained lips, Americans' nightmare!!
Do ghosts build ghost-ominiums in their ghost towns?
As reincarnations of the so-called ‘fittest'
Can we bottle the ocean's breath with its soothing sounds?
Until 1805, guards weren't needed on Presidential grounds
There is nothing better than the pink time of day
Growing up should be a test of multiple choices
One nation under God being taken away
Where are the few good men that mean what they say?
I stood upon the hillside with my lost-button stare
The cold winds of time came to sweep us asunder
Too soon, we blindly walk toward a rose-colored lair
Mad men in peace-suits; voters put them there !!