Thank you God
that I didn’t grow up in a war tide
Thank you God
that I didn’t watch everyone die
Thank you God
that I didn’t grow up in Russia’s world
Thank you God
that I didn’t learn to fear true words

I don’t know, God
what Trump and king-us-wonks
will here sow and grow
but I’m grateful for your songs
of freedom
for a land where we did show
our hearts our ideas our dreams

What do you want, God?
now the strange promises assemble
now the dark premises congregate
how will our wisdom ever be able?
how might Goodness push at Fate?

What can we now, God?
So tired and divided
So sure and sternly decided
So ready for victory
and unready for the story
felt and held with muck and blood
so long so easy, clear of the mud
clear of everything that stings
the body and thereby wrings
the soul out of a man
out of a me
out of a would-be
out of a could-be
out of a please-be
out of where I’d stand
to be a soul
in the whirl and tussle
of the tales we told
when we were allowed
for a brief shining space
to not be broken or cowed
it’s been a nice gentle place
it’s been a nice gentle time
we’d keep it if we could
but if we must lose the sunshine
we’ll still be glad as we should
still glad for all the fun we had
way back when democracy was obvious
way back when future held all of us
way back when God was inside
not forced down from outside
way back when we were young
a nice song, glad it was sung
a nice time, hope it’s not all done

Where are you, America?
Where are you anymore?