This country tis of thee
Sick land of misery
Of thee I sing
Land where the richest thrive
Land where the poorest die
From every mountainside
Apathy rings
My native country , thee
Land where you lied to me
I sing of you
Land where we can’t survive
Buy food and stay alive
From every mountainside
Let real truth ring
Let music swell the breeze
Let all the homeless freeze
I cry for you
Land where the dollar sign
Is seen in every line
If you can’t earn a dime
Too bad for you
Freedom is a dead word
It’s value now absurd
To thee I sing
Land where my father died
Believing all the lies
From every mountainside
Let shame be seen
~Jayn Cameron