My Country, 'tis of Thee;

Sweet Land of Inequality, 

for Thee I weep.

 

Land for which my brothers fight

Land where rich men are always right,

Sweet Land of Bigotry,

Pride of my heart.

 

My Country, 'tis of Thee;

Sweet Land of Supremacy,

They'll drive you out.

Clean out your minerals, Fill you with chemicals,

They kill for what is profitable,

Conquer - repeat.

 

Our climate's suffering, all nature feels the sting,

Poisioned "progress."

We've all these mouths to feed,

All of this land we could seed,

Oh, but there's gold underground.

 

Still part of a minority,

I don't suffer quite as badly 

as the others who might have come seeking refuge.

But people here are left to die,

and the Government will turn a blind eye,

That is, unless you identify 

as a stright, white, middle-class male.

 

Woe be to us who live differently;

Those who have a disability,

Display their heritage proudly

or follow a lesser-known religion.

 

My Country, 'tis of Thee;

I pity what you've become.

What started as "The Land of the Free and Home of the Brave"

has somehow turned into 

The Land of Broken treaties, Broken promises,

and paved over graves.

We are a Broken Land.

 

My Country, 'tis for Thee;

Sweet Land of Inequality,

I beg to stop living so fearfully,

and recognize what needs to be done.

'Tis for Thee I weep.