Since 1789, a long, long time,
America's story, a steady climb.
But now a shadow, a chilling sound,
Democracy's footing, on shaky ground.
Lindberg, he sees, a troubling sight,
A slip backward, with all its might.
More than before, this downward slide,
Where freedom's light begins to hide.
In Hungary's halls, it took four years,
Serbia's path, eight, full of fears.
Turkey's strong hand, India's sway,
Ten years they needed
to dim the day.
But here, it's swift, a year gone by,
Institutions weakened, beneath the sky.
A rapid fall, a sudden blow,
Faster than others, the seeds of woe.
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