After clearing his throat The speaker read from the man*script "only forty-percent of all participants have remained alcoholic." And we began to discuss amongst ourselves The possibility for a dream-filled holiday Order for the new slave trade New flag blowing We've used up our minds We had no way of knowing Old flag burning We've lost our souls There'll be no returning We've diverted back To the stretch rack Only this time We won't snap back While crossing the parking lot A stranger approached me Handed me a gun He said meet me in the ashes Of the old city And we're bound..... To have..... Some fun.