Election Aftermath 08

Come children, sit down awhile, Only a while. He is number 44. Your journey to the promiseland has come On the wings of great momentum To where hope can live forever more. Come children, we have been a long Two hundred and thirty six years in this wilderness Form the three hundred years before the red sea. Let there be no more tears, but work and song No more denial of mirages and history, Come children, leave the bitter forest To the old priests and their sick abortions, We have measured this Sinai Littered with holocaust of the great sea With our faith, and we cross today The Jordan of our hope, and we celebrate Beyond the diatribes of logic's hate. Come, children, you can rest In a land where you are no more tenant or guest.