In the Constitution state,
a score and then some more…
angels met their bloody fate.
Shaken to the core,
Chief wept, and stirred the old debate,
on guns, rights, and cleaning the gore.
Tears, regret and a nation’s heartache.
A day later now, silent is the gun’s roar.
Soon, media shall spit out the bait,
Soon, folks would forget to deplore.
Soon – more crimes of hate,
Soon – more corpses on the floor.
Big Ol’ Sam, it’s time to contemplate,
to soothe the wounds that are sore.
It’s time to cut the divorce rate.
No more can you ignore,
youth who are quick to hate.
Act, Uncle Sam! We can’t take any more.