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Welcome ! | Home · FAQ · Topics · Web Links · Your Account · Submit Poetry · Top 30 · OldSite Link | 10-June 22:06:28 AEST | ||
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Array
(
[sid] => 129385
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Red State
[time] => 2006-12-13 22:35:43
[hometext] => F.W.
[bodytext] => The service is out Thirty-nine woman in dresses right down to their calves Listening only in halves to the public radio station in tune And don’t boast the room but they take it just the same, As you pass by their way, their delighted to pray for your soul But you never stay in control, no that was never their goal They’re just delighted to have you back So they can string you up on the Jesus attack, And you’re passing a confederate flag By an old garbage bag, overflowing on into the street There’s a message to meet, but you know it’s too shallow to grow So you turn the radio up and just drive on into the show Welcome to the Red State With decisions made by fate Where the lovers hate Where the lesser rate This is where I grew up And the war is in There are a few kids from school Under societies rule, you remember them a little too well Back when you considered this hell and now it just seems like a dream Back on the street there is a bumper sticker show Of all you know to be wrong, and big posters up high Stopping a baby to die, unless it’s gay or black of course And this is the course, you just bite your lip, remember this is why you got away Heroes exists on the screens of TV’s Pluto’s and Mickey’s, fundamentalist and the President And you can’t tell them “Get Bent” this is patriotic turf You’re a dent in the curve; you’ve always been so take it from me Welcome to the Red State With decisions made by fate Where the lovers hate Where the lesser rate This is where I grew up Nine to Five, twenty to life And strife from living here too long You just don’t belong, no the pickup trucks are beeping at you They’ll run your ass off the road Before the old, or the soccer mom’s in their s.u.v.’s No one’s out here to please, no this is the good old boy turf Where their children all surf, just to stay at the beach And if you ever thought home was a hallmark card To defend would be hard; I’ve never been fond of here But you can be clear; this is just the way it goes Gospel doesn’t lie, according to 2000-year-old words, it knows Welcome to the Red State With decisions made by fate Where the lovers hate Where the lesser rate This is where I grew up But not where I’ve grown out [comments] => 0 [counter] => 153 [topic] => 31 [informant] => Franciswolf [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 0 [ratings] => 0 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => StoryPoetry )
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