Maiden America, In a Sense Lost
Her job was attired won
Cloaked in innocence
Vested buy lyin’s of national pride
She made sheep’s clothes
For exporting wolves
Trading worlds and souls
Wear global metes loco
As winners make losers
Having
A lock on morality
Taking care of their own
Property
In exchange
For flesh and blood
And what have you
A
Well
Paying job
With blessed insurance
Suited to a life
Fully retired
Having
Spent a life
Wading fore death
As sow many remains
From far off
Lands
Maiden America
As sew much chaff
