every day
i wake up and beg and pray
for a better offer

when it fades
i wait and lay and lay in wait
for the rising water

and in my dreams
you've been screaming at me for too long

so it seems
that this future's as good as gone

in my pockets
this withered window to the world
casts my reflection

it only echos
all the things you've always heard
of the last election