You don’t love us anymore
You got immigrants
To do your chores
You don’t need us in your shops
You got Mexicans to pick
Your crops
We don’t have no money like before
You spent it all on stinkin’ war
We’re in debt up to our ears
Your leadership is based on fears
We don’t make anything no more
Except all that crap you
Sell for war
Weapons of mass destruction
Sold in the mail
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