The buck stops here it’s their birthright and curse we have no business being there They are program to fight among themselves you would be wise not to improvise Sitting in high places with covered faces leaving no traces is sure to run out of aces The burden they are imposing upon their people alas it's not meant for we the people They love our milk and honey spend their money in tiresome war and propaganda All seems fine but you are not blind Mr. President take your people out of the sand The voice of worship unites them in fellowship a radical bunch of manic cowards A parliament of fools sit up and marvel heads up Uncle Sam it’s time to travel The same they all play the game wanting their freedom power and fame Well, if it’s all the same don’t join in their game return home, and suffer no shame For you have no business being there it's their birthright the oasis in the desert air For PwindaykyE Poetry 2021 kg