Not Your Sweetie

Harold Pinter in The Guardian:

The Guardian
>
>
> Here they go again,
> The Yanks in their armoured parade
> Chanting their ballads of joy
> As they gallop across the big world
> Praising America's God.
>
> The gutters are clogged with the dead
> The ones who couldn't join in
> The others refusing to sing
> The ones who are losing their voice
> The ones who've forgotten the tune.
>
> The riders have whips which cut.
> Your head rolls onto the sand
> Your head is a pool in the dirt
> Your head is a stain in the dust
> Your eyes have gone out and your nose
> Sniffs only the pong of the dead
> And all the dead air is alive
> With the smell of America's God.
>
> © Harold Pinter, January 2003
>