“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.
Leave a Reply