Don't you see
Miss America walks with me
But don't doubt her mystery
You know she could be you

False envy
I've spit the seeds of your jealousy
They stole the color from the leaves
And taught us dead is the new true

Sailed the ocean blue or the River Styx?
Built a house made from blood-stained bricks
We blemished her gown now the colors all mix
She hasn't worn white since ‘76

The orange king with his empty crown
Sits atop his throne of green
Face painted with a permanent frown
He screeches at the TV screen

Lies and their consequence
Are no commodities
They used to both be worth two cents
But now we get them free.

Nothing but a group of strangers who play.
By shooting at our our soft, pink layers.
Hitting veins is the American way.
But hitting arteries puts you in our thoughts and prayers.

The orange king with his empty crown
Sits atop his throne of green
Face painted with a permanent frown
He screeches at the TV screen

His finger held over the button,
Weighed down by the pre-diamond industry,
Mistaken the kings for pawns,
To help fuel his fantasy.

Castles built on the shore of industry.
The tide is laced with lye.
Our leaders have the power to kill
Without the power to die.

The orange king with his empty crown
Sits atop his throne of green
Face painted with a permanent frown
He screeches at the TV screen

His finger held over the button,
Weighed down by the pre-diamond industry,
Mistaken the kings for pawns,
To help fuel his fantasy.