The Fall of America

I went to the Garden of Love
And saw what I never had seen:
A Chapel was built in the midst, 
Where I used to play on the green.

And the gates of the Chapel were shut 
And "Thou shalt not" writ over the door; 
So I turn'd to the Garden of Love
That so many sweet flowers bore;

And I saw it was filled with graves,
And tomb-stones where flowers should be;
And Priests in black gowns were walking their rounds 
And binding with briars my joys and desires


Mutual forgiveness of each Vice,
Such are the Gates of Paradise. 
Against the Accuser's chief desire, 
Who walk'd among the Stones of Fire, 

Jehovah's Finger Wrote the Law.
Then Wept! then rose in Zeal and Awe, 
And the Dead Corpse from Sinai's heat 
Buried beneath his Mercy Seat.
O Christians Christians! tell me Why 
You rear it on your Altars high.


Shoot them! Bomb Them! Them Bomb! Bomb Them!