To whom it may concern

I turn on TV every day and I see
Your faces and shaded eyes looking at me
From the point of view of your lousy policy.
And I know every vicious thought in your empty head
You look like a paper-puppet to me, you smell like dead.
You are like a vampire dragging for innocent blood
The most furious mean-machine of mankind which is never to stop.
You speak so openly with the word "democracy" on your lips.
Oh! Such a good sign of hypocrisy it is!
Aren’t you really thinking of that money-war you got in?
Or aren't you ashamed of the bloody air we all breathing?
Look at you! Calling yourselves patriots,
Sitting in your leather chairs
Changing portraits of presidents every four years.
Or sometimes oftener. Wasn't it long enough?
Some do it every eight years
But some never do it at all. Who cares?!
Oops, I'm sorry. You seem to care.
Those kids with machine-guns feel it
With their running noses in the polluted air.
Oh! You are talking to me! You say that you care.
Look, here's a riffle. Catch it and shoot yourself. Yeah, it'll be fair.
But before you do it I want you to think,
I want you to look around the mess and the grief you bring.
So if you just pass away, if you blow into pieces,
How many people would cry do you think?
How many Moms would regret this?
None. None of us, who thinking and living,
Would burst into tears if you had dropped dead.
The only regret is those fears we had
But we'll never forget the days of freedom we had
Until we turned on TV, until we all were to see
Your dirty policy of hypocrisy.