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Description
Dear Mr.President,
Can we talk today?
I saw you crying the other day
while everyone else was turned away.
I guess you can say I'm just a lowly custodian.
So standing here between the garbage cans
head full of questions
I'll try to write this with honesty.
I used to dream of a female president
coming to be one of these days
regal and elegant
beautiful in the most unconventional ways
intelligent and hard working
didn't lie and cheat her way in
with a vision to change the world
but dear Mr.President
the way I see life going I guess its a foolish dream
because all the little girls who wanted to be that lady
now want to be singers dressed provocatively
now want to be actresses on the front of magazines
pretending to be ignorant to get in a better position in the corporate world.
How many are now living unhappily?
When did little ones stop wanting to be fairies and princesses,
vets and doctors,
or even lawyers and day dreamers?
Dear Mr.President what are we teaching to them
if such beautiful aspirations disappear?
Oh Mr.President what are you thinking?
Do you smell the smoke?
Or perhaps you can taste the coppery flavor of death,
how many men have we sent off to war?
Dear Mr. President I see you cradle your head in your arms
weeping when all the lights and technology are gone.
I wish I can comfort you and tell you of the nights I spent sleepless
wishing fairies or some blessedly obsurb thing would take me away.
Dear Mr.President do you remember me on your inauguration day?
I was the tall boy in the back of the marching band
messy blond hair and bright blue eyes.
I waved to you from my seat
can you remember? You had such a lovely grin.
I prayed for you
'cause you see dear Mr.President
we need you to soothe the pain in our country.
Dear Mr.President did you see me weeping on your lawn today.
Trailing deep crimson at your feet
have you seen the corpses piling up?
I watch as children learn to hate
but not taught of tolerance and love.
Dear Mr.President can we take a walk?
It can't be easy being in charge of so many people
but dear Mr.President do you see the pain?
Love being condemned
and the poverty scattered over this land
I pray you try to amend these things
dear Mr.President don't think about all the things you've done wrong
please just try to help the people who thought you were the hero they needed
like children they sometimes forget about your possible greed
for fame or money
this I do not know
but dear Mr.President it just seems to be how the world works
I can hope we are lucky you are not so
but then why is there blood staining our hands?
Will you listen to the sound of the rain for a moment?
Soft pit pats
a lulling lullaby within the chaos of life.
Remember we are the same
even though I am in a lowly position compared to thee
we are both men wanting good
but dear Mr.President if we ever meet
you won't even regonise me on the street
that's ok just tell the soldiers to come home safely,
pray for the discernment of gay rights,
remember the starving faces that line your city streets,
and work on the no child left behind program as the students sit listlessly.
I need to know this wasn't written for naught
because dear Mr.President
I'm near invisble to you
because dear Mr.President
the pain on your face
and those hidden tears you weep
tell me maybe you'll understand
a poor man's plea.
I know the truth that this may never be read
lifted up and laughed at
or even tossed to be consumed by a fire's hungry flame.
To you this may seem to be a drunken rant
to me this is truth I wish I could give in person.
But you would only talk with me if I was Mr.America
and I'm sorry dear Mr. President I'm just Alfred F. Jones
weeping silently while the crimson rivulets spill down my back.

Description
Dear Mr.President,
Can we talk today?
I saw you crying the other day
while everyone else was turned away.
I guess you can say I'm just a lowly custodian.
So standing here between the garbage cans
head full of questions
I'll try to write this with honesty.
I used to dream of a female president
coming to be one of these days
regal and elegant
beautiful in the most unconventional ways
intelligent and hard working
didn't lie and cheat her way in
with a vision to change the world
but dear Mr.President
the way I see life going I guess its a foolish dream
because all the little girls who wanted to be that lady
now want to be singers dressed provocatively
now want to be actresses on the front of magazines
pretending to be ignorant to get in a better position in the corporate world.
How many are now living unhappily?
When did little ones stop wanting to be fairies and princesses,
vets and doctors,
or even lawyers and day dreamers?
Dear Mr.President what are we teaching to them
if such beautiful aspirations disappear?
Oh Mr.President what are you thinking?
Do you smell the smoke?
Or perhaps you can taste the coppery flavor of death,
how many men have we sent off to war?
Dear Mr. President I see you cradle your head in your arms
weeping when all the lights and technology are gone.
I wish I can comfort you and tell you of the nights I spent sleepless
wishing fairies or some blessedly obsurb thing would take me away.
Dear Mr.President do you remember me on your inauguration day?
I was the tall boy in the back of the marching band
messy blond hair and bright blue eyes.
I waved to you from my seat
can you remember? You had such a lovely grin.
I prayed for you
'cause you see dear Mr.President
we need you to soothe the pain in our country.
Dear Mr.President did you see me weeping on your lawn today.
Trailing deep crimson at your feet
have you seen the corpses piling up?
I watch as children learn to hate
but not taught of tolerance and love.
Dear Mr.President can we take a walk?
It can't be easy being in charge of so many people
but dear Mr.President do you see the pain?
Love being condemned
and the poverty scattered over this land
I pray you try to amend these things
dear Mr.President don't think about all the things you've done wrong
please just try to help the people who thought you were the hero they needed
like children they sometimes forget about your possible greed
for fame or money
this I do not know
but dear Mr.President it just seems to be how the world works
I can hope we are lucky you are not so
but then why is there blood staining our hands?
Will you listen to the sound of the rain for a moment?
Soft pit pats
a lulling lullaby within the chaos of life.
Remember we are the same
even though I am in a lowly position compared to thee
we are both men wanting good
but dear Mr.President if we ever meet
you won't even regonise me on the street
that's ok just tell the soldiers to come home safely,
pray for the discernment of gay rights,
remember the starving faces that line your city streets,
and work on the no child left behind program as the students sit listlessly.
I need to know this wasn't written for naught
because dear Mr.President
I'm near invisble to you
because dear Mr.President
the pain on your face
and those hidden tears you weep
tell me maybe you'll understand
a poor man's plea.
I know the truth that this may never be read
lifted up and laughed at
or even tossed to be consumed by a fire's hungry flame.
To you this may seem to be a drunken rant
to me this is truth I wish I could give in person.
But you would only talk with me if I was Mr.America
and I'm sorry dear Mr. President I'm just Alfred F. Jones
weeping silently while the crimson rivulets spill down my back.