Four Score And Seven

And there and then and bathed by the rising sun, my son in his grave, in his rude-dug grave I deposited, ending my vigil strange with that, vigil of night and battle-field dim, vigil for boy of responding kisses, (never again on earth responding,). Vigil for comrade swiftly slain, vigil I never forget, how as day brighten'd, I rose from the chill ground and folded my soldier well in his blanket, and buried him where he fell.

(Walt Whitman, Vigil Strange I Kept on the Field One Night, 1865)

This is a war we can't win
After ten thousand years, it's still us against them
And my heroes have always died at the end
So who's going to account for these sins?

And I don't know who here is my friend
I'm certain that I've seen uglier men
But Christ, fuck me if I can remember when
Will I never be lonely again?

Olden times are returning once more
As six dark-winged devils line up at my door
Each on is more evil than that which came before
Seven angels find me spread across the floor

You'd like everyone to believe you're a star
And I'll admit that it's worked out pretty well so far
But when they see the kind of person that you really are
Then you won't be laughing so hard

I'm depraved and disgusting, I spew like a fountain
I've been debased, defaced, disgraced and destroyed
Most of all disappointed, I say atop this mountain
As I urinate into the void

Fuck, I'm frustrated, freaking out something fierce
Would you help me? I'm hungry, I suffer and I starve
And I struggle and stammer until I'm up to my ears
In miserable quote-unquote art

About how ever since our forefathers came on this land
We've been coddling those we should be running through
Please don't wait around for them to come shake hands
They're not going to be waiting for you

Because these humans treat humans like humans treat hogs
They get used up, carved up, and fried in a pan
But I wasn't born to die like a dog
I was born to die just like a man

It's still us against them
And they're winning