Citizen of the Empire

“Bomb them all, let god sort them out!”  that’s my mantra,

Because I know I have the biggest and the best

Military in all the world.

Bigger than the next  six nations put together

So big that we have bases everywhere

So big that over half my tax dollars support it.

“Bomb them all, let god sort them out!” that’s my mantra

Because I blindly believe in a thing called

American Exceptionalism

And that means I am certain my Nation is the best

We have the best democracy

We have the best food

We have the best of everything

Don’t we?

“Bomb them all, let god sort them out!” that’s my mantra

Because I am ignorant of my own Empire

I do not know that we’ve meddled

I do not know that we leave destruction in our wake

I do not know that we are suspect

Wherever we go

I do not know that ‘they’ are wary of ‘us’

“Bomb them all, let god sort them out!” that’s my mantra

Because they’re barbarians anyway

They don’t follow the correct religion

They eat strange food

They have weird customs

They are not worth our time

They’re Towel Heads and Sand Niggers all of them

“Bomb them all, let god sort them out!” that’s my mantra

Because my vision is short-sighted

And my compassion follows a narrow road

My ears hear only war drums

My heart feels insecure pride

I am safe in this land – what do I have to lose?

“Bomb them all, let god sort them out!” that’s my mantra

I am a citizen of the Empire.