GUNS

Greetings great America; 

white, shot up hysteria

freedom - the fuck'n dreams

bullets over black screams

up to the theater in a trifle

rifle in your hand,

make a stand, we demand

God Bless this fuck'n land

gunshots gunning like a game

all the same,

he's insane

it's inane,

Johnny's pain

gotta drain

or better yet, aye are

fifteen to the school

bitter bullet batted down

eight years temper -

would it cool?

or is it flaming fire

meant to churn

till' we learn it'll burn

or is it us who yearn to burn

not the flames blame to earn?

without a way to know or learn

with fire at every turn -

can't discern endless burn

where the burn turned concerned.