Oh, your undesirable acumen If irony was a country  You tell our children that it will be okay  When they are seventeen you break the news Not the awfulness of you The tragedy of being the best in the world  You are so naive You are so ungreat    Oh the land of the free My freedom, their freedom, it's all personal   It's all shards of glass Evanescent the idea of freedom That never existed Never once  Not during the Trail of Tears  Not during the ever so faint cries of the holocaust that you never heard  Not during the time of vast cotton fields that took the lives of 60 million because of a color Not now   Hope is a country I can't defend A sullen love  Or 1 in 5 to put into math  That's how many tiny empty bellies you leave each night You let your future down  It's callow  It's broken  You're devastating