In America
Filled with cities we didn’t build or dream or kill
Eating crops we didn’t grow
Enjoying freedom we didn’t earn
We are sad
We think we have nothing
Though we choke on abundance
Treating our stomach pains
With more bread
We live in dread
Of a life without meaning
But spend all morning in bed
Hungover by the eternal scroll
We pursued other gods
Freedom, our queen
And comfort, our king
Filling the court with pastors
Of self-actualization
Take care lest you forget the Lord