You say you want to make the country great again
But those days they don’t seem so great to me.
Rose colored glasses, filter out that ****** red
Double standards, when down on one knee.
You can’t run, you can’t walk, You are forced to work a job,
Pro-life only applies if you are free

We’re all free. oh yes,
But some are freer than the rest
Free to spout lies, frame crimes,
**** a man on the street.

So Mr. President tell me what is there to do
Will you reach across the room to move us forward?
Or will you sit in you’re ivory tower,
Pointing fingers, yelling “Liar!”
Oh I think I know the way it’s gonna be...

Cause it’s a dark night,
In the kingdom of 45
With death tolls on the rise,
He won’t cover up his mouth, But he’ll cover up your eyes.

So Mr. President tell me what is there to do
Will you reach across the room to move us forward?
Or will you tee off your emerald green,
Say another thing obscene,
Oh I think I know the way it’s gonna be...

Under the bow
of a failing nebula
floats a time capsule
full of unused bandwidth
and disappearing summers

Swimming-pool eyes
they're in remission
discovering Columbus
on the starboard side
of this standard suburban saltbox

Fragility and risk is this
cosmic companionship
rowing to latitude
through dark matter
seiche or refracted

The oncoming tide
will mean a migration of steep passages
"though shiny, sculpted pebbles
spoke of frequent waves
the sea was docile that day"