I used to work in America, but the jobs all went away, and so did I.
I used to live on a tree-lined street, with a corner store, and a hayfield at the end of the road. But those things all got bought up, and closed down and now they are gone, and so am I.
I used to work in a big building, and have lunch out with all my friends. Now the building is still there, but the jobs are gone, and so am I.
I used to drive that American car, but now it's gone, and so am I.
I used to look up at night at the Moon, and know that a little piece of America was up there. But it cost too much to keep that dream alive, and we had wars to fight and taxes to cut, so now it's gone, and so am I.
I used to thrive in my town, in my state, in my country, but important people had plans for all that, and now it's gone, and so am I.
I used to think that if I worked hard and played by the rules, I'd get what I worked for. But I don't think that anymore. That idea is gone, and so am I.
Now I sit in my chair, and I eat my noodles, and I wait for the weather to change. I'm sure America is somewhere right around the corner . . . if I only knew where to find it.
And a hundred million souls are just as lost as I.
9:45 AM PT: This is a work of almost-poetry. I want you to imagine it is December of 2013 as you read it, and the Teabaggers took over the government in 2012 because nobody stood up to them, and then sliced up our country and sold it off to the highest bidder.
That's what I was imagining when I wrote this.