Please forgive me, Mr. Green

but the writing’s on the wall

You’re a washed up patriot

 

Please forgive me, Mr. Green

But we’ve pulled the curtains closed

Our streets have been swept clean

 

Your antiquated ideas

will trickle down no more

Your hazy vague plague

swaddled in the flag

 

No more empty hollow words

No more hat in hands

No more hobo nickels

rattle in our pans

 

Please forgive me, Mr. Green

but the writing’s on the wall

You’re a washed up patriot