There is a land
So distant, yet near enough
That the drums of war
Drift along the wind to man's ear

This land is black and scorched
From the heat of man's greatest ambitions
Its rivers run bare
And its mountains are crumbled

There is a land
So distant, yet near enough
That its armies
Can be seen like a great wall on the horizon

This land is silent and still
From the thunder of man's greatest faults
Its soil is destitute
And its forests are cinders

There is a land
So distant, yet near enough
That its menace
Can be felt shaking the earth

This land is a serene memorial
With the shadows of forests burnt into the soil
And the white figures of women with shopping bags
And men in suits and children playing
All forever preserved
Burnt into the broken remains of civilization

This land is barren
Except for a green plant
Rising from the ashes
Over a piece of shattered concrete
Bearing seared letters that spell
America