A Speculative Fiction Propagandhi

A new iron curtain drawn across the 49th parallel
Cut all diplomatic ties as we expel
All American dignitaries
And issue a nation-wide
Travel advisory for any others left inside

Nowhere to run. Nowhere to hide

The burned out shells of south-bound traffic lay
Strewn along a cold stretch of would-be interstate
Still visible below
Their charred remains: Pax Americana plates

Your stupid fucking laser-pucks™ were just the start
And while you may stand six full cubits and a span
We got a shepherd’s sling and five stones in our hand
And the battle of 1812 lives in our hearts

We don’t care if we’re destroyed
We’ll never capitulate
We’ll take the whole fucking world down
Down with us in flames

Just a speculative fiction. No cause for alarm
We got a good 15 years left ’til the "United We Stand"
Murals on West Broadway finally fade
And we wave good-bye to such sad, childish refrains
Exchanged for other stupid lullabies like "you can have my guns when you pry
Them from my cold dead hands."