The election are coming near, shouldn't be this te time to wake up and tell the politicians that the choices aren't good? that we want, demand! for other to come forward?
Can we find one that is not a cheater, adulterer, greedy, liar?
Are out there and honest man that will put back the honorable seal on the White House, the Congress and the House of Representants?
Are there a politician not in the pocket of big corporations?
Are there a politician that's not a lame duck, religious extremist, war hawk, red-carped-blinded?
Can I get back my America?

Mozart’s Lacrimosa from his Requiem, again,
because I am feeling now sadness in my heart
for many a brother that was lost too far away
in a time that only can be found but in the dark,
and all the tears will not wash clean the names
of all my brothers etched on that wall in black,
that are shameless forgotten and buried again
from yet of another painful war its bloody sands.

Put your uniform go and defend our democracy,
tell your mothers to be of you so very proud,
because you are going places your fathers didn’t
and to those darkness you will bring the light,
and for it, oil will come in dandy for a few souls
that sold theirs when the Devil’s bid was high,
they were calling wolf! wolf! and you believed it,
lying down your life for the snake-oil merchant.

Yes, I am sad, over four thousand of my brothers
will no return, and those that did, all broken up,
were forgotten before reaching America’s shores,
wheelchair soldiers, they that burden doesn’t want;
“mission accomplish” was said far too soon because
we didn’t, but our “enemies” of course had a plan,
or we had? from the very beginning, no democracy,
but that valuable black gold, a mountain of oil-fats.

Among the white crosses of Arlington the chorus
of mounting ghosts army are singing from Mozart
that painful and sad Lacrimosa from his Requiem
like an omen to their brothers future, from the past,
telling them that cannon-fodder became the truth
and not the lies wrapped with the Stars and Stripes
by a man out of George Orwell’s book “1984”,
the one in Washington, the snake-oil salesman.