You crossed the seas to build yourselves a city on new-minted hills,
You had a bad king once: you threw him out.
You were the licensed good guys and gave chocolate to the kids,
And liberty was what it’s all about.
And Abu Ghraib, Guantanamo, are foreign words to you,
The children beg for water and the torture bill goes through.
A few bad apples spread and turn the whole damn crop to rot,
And this is us, is now, is what we’ve got.
So count the votes, America, and throw the bastards out.
Remember being what you want to seem.
Recall the things that matter and give substance to the words,
Bring back the hopes that went to build the dream.
Make Abu Ghraib, Guantanamo, the ancient words of shame.
Set straight the laws and end the wars, accept your share of blame.
Give water to the thirsty kids, give hope and freedom too,
And this is us, is now, is ours to do.
24th November 2006