More often than not
Whiskey Tango Foxtrot
Is what I think when I hear
That our future is unclear
Glory days of the past
Provide a sharp contrast
Government's wicked ways
Lady Liberty at her end of days
It's not over for all of us
Though we're under the bus
New patriots will rise up
No Kool-Aid in a Dixie cup
Redistribution of our wealth
Nothing but theft via stealth
At what percentage are we slaves
Taxing us until we're in our graves
We hold our freedoms dear
Those against us better fear
Restoration, by bullet or ballot
Of a republic, true and valid
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem