It is lost.
The right has converged with the darkness
The wrong has submerged in the right
What once was wrong
Is considered pure
What thrives at night
Has invaded the light

My country tis’ of thee
Sweet land of liberty
I once was blind but now I see
A country full of misery
If what is wrong
is considered right
If what is pure
is no longer bright

A future full of war and fighting?
A world we are left,
To mend and try lighting.
The match that was burned
The torch that is dying

My country tis’ of thee
Sweet land of liberty
I once was blind but now I see
A country full of misery
If what is wrong





is considered right
If what is pure
is no longer bright.

Nervous we are to inherit this world
A world that is torn
Broken and worn
By the choices they have made

The ones before us have not yet gone
Instead of comforting our fading song
They poison our minds with a tampered one
A deathly one
A history full of twisted rights
Truths that would help us as we try
To discern those truths from a rising lie

My country tis’ of thee
Sweet land of liberty
I once was blind but now I see
A country full of misery
If what is wrong
is considered right
If what is pure
is no longer bright.