Dear Mr. President
Dear Mr. President
Come take a walk with me
Let's pretend we're just two people and
You're not better than me
I'd like to ask you some questions if we can speak honestly
What do you feel when you see all the homeless on the street
Who do you pray for at night before you go to sleep
What do you feel when you look in the mirror
Are you proud
How do you sleep while the rest of us cry
How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye
How do you walk with your head held high
Can you even look me in the eye
And tell me why
Dear Mr. President
Were you a lonely boy
Are you a lonely boy
Are you a lonely boy
How can you say
No child is left behind
We're not dumb and we're not blind
They're all sitting in your cells
While you pave the road to hell
What kind of father would take his own daughter's rights away
And what kind of father might hate his own daughter if she were gay
I can only imagine what the first lady has to say
You've come a long way from whiskey and cocaine
How do you sleep while the rest of us cry
How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye
How do you walk with your head held high
Can you even look me in the eye
Let me tell you bout hard work
Minimum wage with a baby on the way
Let me tell you bout hard work
Rebuilding your house after the bombs took them away
Let me tell you bout hard work
Building a bed out of a cardboard box
Let me tell you bout hard work
Hard work
Hard work
You don't know nothing bout hard work
Hard work
Hard work
Oh
How do you sleep at night
How do you walk with your head held high
Dear Mr. President
You'd never take a walk with me
Would you
Let's pretend we're just two people and
You're not better than me
I'd like to ask you some questions if we can speak honestly
What do you feel when you see all the homeless on the street
Who do you pray for at night before you go to sleep
What do you feel when you look in the mirror
Are you proud
How do you sleep while the rest of us cry
How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye
How do you walk with your head held high
Can you even look me in the eye
And tell me why
Dear Mr. President
Were you a lonely boy
Are you a lonely boy
Are you a lonely boy
How can you say
No child is left behind
We're not dumb and we're not blind
They're all sitting in your cells
While you pave the road to hell
What kind of father would take his own daughter's rights away
And what kind of father might hate his own daughter if she were gay
I can only imagine what the first lady has to say
You've come a long way from whiskey and cocaine
How do you sleep while the rest of us cry
How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye
How do you walk with your head held high
Can you even look me in the eye
Let me tell you bout hard work
Minimum wage with a baby on the way
Let me tell you bout hard work
Rebuilding your house after the bombs took them away
Let me tell you bout hard work
Building a bed out of a cardboard box
Let me tell you bout hard work
Hard work
Hard work
You don't know nothing bout hard work
Hard work
Hard work
Oh
How do you sleep at night
How do you walk with your head held high
Dear Mr. President
You'd never take a walk with me
Would you
That is a very honest poem or song or whatever it is. Did you write that??
Posted by
Anonymous |
Mon Oct 30, 01:14:00 p.m. 2006
It's a song by P!nk
You can listen/see the video at this link...
Dear Mr. President
Posted by
Claudia |
Mon Oct 30, 02:02:00 p.m. 2006
I didn't know you were still blogging?!?! YAY! I'll keep checking back!
Posted by
Melanie |
Tue Oct 31, 10:03:00 a.m. 2006
Yep, I was not sure if it was a poem you wrote or not. I guess it's cause I am getting way too old.
Posted by
Carol |
Tue Oct 31, 11:30:00 a.m. 2006
Wow, that's really good. I guess Pink isn't so bad. Actually, for a fairly mainstream female popstar, she isn't all that bad.
Posted by
Unknown |
Tue Oct 31, 06:46:00 p.m. 2006
Carol ... *shakes head* hehe, it has nothing to do with getting old. And you're not old!
I love Pink, well, only a few of her songs.
Posted by
Claudia |
Wed Nov 01, 11:12:00 a.m. 2006
I just thought I would let you know that I am blogging again. If you are wondering what footsack means, it's the Afrikaans word for get lost. ttyl
This is Auntie Mitz by the way:)
Posted by
footsack |
Thu Nov 02, 04:14:00 p.m. 2006