All you poems and the Freedom Suite And comment cards cannot delete Broken bikes and cold, bare feet. America, surrender. But to honest plights Or tennis whites Or parking-space posses That will wrong all rights? Who took my wallet and my sleepless nights? I can never remember. In some towns you must respect the water And the shade. Part rust and part disturbing daughter Pushes you away. Stay away. There's dust and leaks and coincidence, Tenements in Billings, and in bu*te, Soon in tents. Call the janitor and raise the rents, There's camping in December. Still Astrud aspires To blight the liars. Sometimes a simple voice can douse the hottest fires. A nascent tune will make them all retire. America, surrender.