Blues For Democracy Poem by Kevin Patrick

You can know longer say that your country is free
When your choice is clothes hangers or a trip down the stairs
You can know longer pretend there's not a price to the dream
When your job is a treadmill that's going no where
You can no longer subscribe to the idea there's a good life
Or that there's still a middle, that you can cling your ambitions too
You can no longer depend on apple pie values
When there's worms growing inside of your moral convictions
And if you wake up believing that today will be yesterday
Then your eyes are still closed as democracy Slips away
Hail Ceaser, the great deceiver are you uncle
Or son of Sam?
Stay in school, follow rules, and you'll serve the butcher's plans
Be a dog, wag your flag
You need pleasure
Thinking's torture
You want fame
Not real freedom
Who really needs a constitution


Watch that man, who lives by civic tourism
He has the foul stench of patriotism
He's raving for a country that's imaginary
Living on a past that's barely sanitary


Somewhere in the canadian boonies
The ghost of native children still scream
Their graves were made with Christian pride
But we just shrug and turn the other cheek
It was all done in hush, hush secrecy
A genocide for cultural decency
Oh how it's nice to be white in a democracy!



Now I see a lady named liberty
Down on the street named misery
She bends to her knees
And says pretty please
As the money shot hits on delivery




We play the game, the game plays us
The world just laughs, as we turn to dust

Goodbye red and goodbye blue
We're all just meat for nature's womb