Special Delivery

I tried to go clean from protesting, but I’m a recidivist.
My government: behaving with unlimited wickedness.
“In the interest of peace” is how a liar wages war
then clamors for more.
I wish we had elections every day,
wave the ballot in the air like a sign when I say
that democracy delivered by the bomb and the gun
is terror elsewhere on the world I’m from.

Do you cheer for the once-and-for-all of an enemy
whose hand our man don was on in ‘83
but who now exemplifies all evil?
That’s what you get for shaking hands with people
who represent the vast and sinister interests of industry.
We protect the free trade world, so don’t dare try to stop us.
We deliver them bullets and sell them their coffins.

And I wish that I could afford the ear of Bush the Second;
I’d ask, is it your favorite philosopher who recommended
invading and exterminating all who defy us,
crying out justice but seeking out triumphs?
Wasn’t your Christ unbeloved of empires?
One nailed his ass to a post; he expired!
A terrorist, as Roman evidence showed,
put down like a retard on the death row
in Texas; I guess “tough luck,” right George?
Ain’t that how every war gets scored?
Big gun wins. Winner gets a free turn.
Enemy after enemy burns.
Are you listening, sir? Or did your mind drift
to the next country in your axis,
to all the cool bomb drops you get to call:
delivery fresh from the Fourth Reich to y’all?