My great country, they said, was the best in the world
Every time in the school yard its flag was unfurled.
I was told to be proud of belonging to it
And that other lands, nations and countries were sh*t.
So, I 'd count my blessings each time I'd wake up,
And look out the window at the mountain top
Over which morning rays would their light softly shed,
And exclaim: " What a country!" while still lying in bed.
"We have mountains, valleys and rivers and lakes,
Our forests have wolves, moose and deer and snakes.
In the skies, there are stars, so pristine and divine.
How beautiful is this great country of mine!
How lucky I am to be living in it;
I would die for my land if it ever were hit
By the enemy bombs or missiles or bullets.
May forever its leaders continue to rule it!"
For as they often said, full of vim, pride and zest:
"Our country is great!-in this world, it's the best!"
Then one day, a misfortune my homeland befell-
Its economy suddenly plunged into hell;
Our rulers were toppled and new ones emerged.
On the blood of the people, the new rulers gorged.
Many people, including myself, were exiled
And in faraway lands, wretched, poor and reviled,
We began to rebuild our sad, trampled lives
With no glory, no pride and no snappy high-fives.
And in those new lands I began to behold
How in them their leaders the same stories told
To the countries' small kids, women, men and the rest
How *their* great nations were simply "the best".
Only they had green woods filled with sumptuous game,
Only they had big weapons that kill, wound and maim.
Only they had deep skies with bright starlets all lit.
All the other lands, nations and countries were sh*t...
