We've no cause for celebration,
For surely you can see,
We're a messed-up kind of nation.
There's a general consternation,
Amid mutual hypocrisy,
We've no cause for celebration.
There's no verbal constipation,
So the bullshit's flowing free,
We're a messed-up kind of nation.
They use no rational consideration,
And so thus I can foresee,
No cause for celebration.
They're hell-bent on confrontation,
Won't hear moderation's plea,
We're a messed-up kind of nation.
This war-dog Administration
Call mob rule democracy;
We've no cause for celebration,
We're a messed-up kind of nation.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Good job. I never could get the feel foe villaneles.