We are surrounded be sirens of impending storm

"The End of the World" echos the Pundent choir.

"Last one to leave, turn off the lights, every man for themselves" they warn.

As the Twister of Trouble tears through the valley of Hope.

To the Conspirators and Mockers delight.

yet What the Shit stirrers Dont seem to Unstand

The Americn heart was forged in a fight.

Though a storm blows strong
Its life is but a breath
As the dust clears, we will gather up and gather on