Appear here
Reappear there

No work is done
I am not seeking fame

Or claiming credit

When the end comes
For America

I'll be standing on some
Trail somewhere

And in those final hours
I'll dream of meeting
A kind and caring woman

And if she does not come

So be it I suppose
I'll sit on a stump
And eat my granola bar

Somewhere secluded
The cool mountain air
Feels wonderful