You’ll Be My American Boy

He want a soft girl with a hard body,
He want a pretty face with a blind eye.
He want a sharp tongue with a sloppy mouth, when he finds a good thing
he want a photocopy.

He want a clean hand covered in sticky stuff,
He want empires plural and
Rome just ain’t enough,
he want a hot fire,
he stands beneath the pyre,
he breathe the smoke with blistered lips-
he don’t feel a thing,
never been higher.

He want a fair exchange
cos he works hard for his money,
he want dominion over truth
and he ain’t being funny.

He want a quiet hologram
of a dangerous road,
He want the weight of the world
on easy mode,
He want a harvest with no seeds to sow
want a paycheck with no work to show.

2 thoughts on “You’ll Be My American Boy

  1. The cadence in your verse is entrancing. Meld music with this and you have a song many, many folk will adore. “He want a quiet hologram of a dangerous road” Poetry extraordinaire! You left me speechless but flooded in imagery and emotion.

    Liked by 2 people

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