End of the Country Blues

Sitting at a table on the sidewalk outside a coffeehouse downtown. Dylan. “How does it feel to be on your own, like a complete unknown, like a rolling stone?” Feels like this:
 
Greenland is melting, the ocean’s a’risin’, 
And it’s all happening faster’n anyone knew,
California’s burning ‘tween mudslides and earthquakes,
Burning summer down with the end of the country blues.

We bow down to China, kiss the ring of Putin,
Bribes from foreign enemies can’t be refused,
That the president’s a traitor there ain’t no disputin’,
And congress sings the chorus to the end of the country blues.

They’ll take whatever they can steal, come hell or high water,
They’ll ruin everything they touch till there’s nothing left to lose,
They’re gonna leave the planet ruined, our disregarded mother,
They’re drivin’ the train to end of the line, to the end of the country blues.

Got a Hummer in the driveway, gets twelve miles to a gallon,
Got a Caddy we tool around in so you know we paid some dues,
If it gets above a hundred, our air is well conditioned,
And with five-thousand tv stations we’ll ignore the end of the country blues.

The world order’s a’changin’, America fading backward,
But oligarchs get that we’re fighting as they turn the screws,
And I’ll stand out on the corner with a raised fist and a placard,
Fighting for democracy, battling the end of the country blues.

So fuck you Mr. President, fuck you and all the rest,
Surrounded yourself with imbeciles like there was no one else to choose,
Nothing like the brightest, nothing like the best,
Shepherding us to Armageddon and the end of the country blues. 

They’ll take whatever they can steal, come hell or high water,
They’ll ruin everything they touch till there’s nothing left to lose,
They’re gonna leave the planet ruined, our disregarded mother,
They’re drivin’ the train to end of the line, to the end of the country blues.

May 15, 2005