Can a philosophy borne out from tragedy, live
to embrace its fair share of success?
We are embarking from impossibility. Give
us a cheer, never fear happiness!
While superficially we're blessed with comedy, this
is our antidote served with a grin.
Surreal intensity isn't a farce, you see. Kiss
the Guy Fawkes mask I'm wearing again.
Bucking unfairness and loving our squareness, here we
slowly dance to a most somber tune
(nonetheless beautiful). Doggedly dutifully
freedom wrings; it's been wrung, wrack and ruin.
We would reanimate what made this country great, by
Rumpelstiltskin-esque straw spun to gold!
Yes it's implausible but this is all we can try --
to fulfill the false hopes we've been sold.
From undergound where the seeds may be found, it is now
that some lustful eruptions incite
HOPEFULNESS that our entire generation might plow
through all chaos corruption and fright.
We might retreat from the brink of this abyss and claim
what the fates would restore to our hand,
to build our future so solid that none can defame
New American Dreams for this land.