Buzzard Meat
I get slanted looks when I wear the American flag.
Like I'm some kind of red, white, and blue carnival hag.
There are reasons why millions are trying to force their way in.
It's because it's the greatest damned country that's ever been.
It became great after addressing and shackling sins of the past.
So why shouldn't we, the good people, be very proud of all that?
Its foundation is a great melting pot- and a strong will to fuel its hearth.
It has a just God to feed its soul, but freedom still demands a fighting heart.
A million pints of sacrifice for one nugget of liberty's precious gold.
With compassion and unity, the eagles' grip is quite indivisible.
Now the art of sacrifice is being undermined and begins to fracture.
Everybody wants to inflate their bubble at the expense of others.
There are more grabbers than givers, pushing jagged agendas.
Greed, corruption, and complacency may be the beginning of our end.
Vultures can smell division in our blood-from across the sea.
Their circling, waiting to take a chunk of eagle meat.
But the old eagle still has a purple mountain full of fight.
It must take its talon to the black veil and glide back into God's light.
I get some slanted looks when I wear the American flag.
I've never tasted buzzard meat but may soon get the chance.
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