Sorry. I'm not a poet- I'm no writer
(but oh, how I try)

They say we're at war but hey, I don’t feel it, living in the land of liberty
All I see is your McDonald’s your pretty boys next to me
Petty gossip of the generation raised by MTV
Because I'm your daughter and this is my war story, America.

But that’s only a lie, look deeper- I'm not the girl with the smile
(but oh, how I try)

Cuz since he's died; now I feel like I've never felt before, yeah- me
All without feeling at all; doesn't quite sink in, see
They repeat "dead, dead. I said DEAD, damn it!" He’s dead, America?
There's a war, but your daughter's heart is dead, America.

So, that's Me. I'm not sweet- I'll never be shy
(but oh, how I try)

Because I’m the loud, liberty loving daughter of America
See, I've grown up, and I’ve grown angry (do you hear me, America?)
Fighting a war, fighting a love, fighting the rushing in my blood
This isn't a fucking war story- this is my love story, America.

Author Note: Credit to Tim O'Brien for the brilliant line, from his book The Things We Carried. Nothing I read in high school inspired me more.