Widows weep
in shattered streets.
Whispering at shadows,
reminiscing in the heat
of days when
talk was free!

Now it’s just cheap.

What do you say?
A little time to sit my friend,
spend your dollars?
I bend
only to your will,
my friend.

What do you say?

In the desert,
in the heat,
and in the marching of booted feet
lend Liberty
to me,
to mine,
to us.

Speak!
Of Freedom, Laughter, Liberation
and Life.
Speak to me!
My friend,
my brother,
who promised us these gifts
for generations to follow,
but our nations are
swallowed
as Liberty yawns.