In America

Simple Simon met a madman going to the fair
In San Ysidro, on a dime, he laid the cupboard bare
Walked into McDonaldland where killing is the fare
Now one and twenty blackbirds died in there

Fee fi fo fum, smell the blood run
But use your head now, where the violence at?

Look at Hinkley, shot his gun off, and only to declare
That some debacle turned him on, some puppy-love affair
Gun control or human rights up Ronnie's derriere
Right-wing Mary, quite contrary, he didn't even care
Love thy neighbor, this very night they strapped him to a chair
Bloodshed nightmare, he done his share, never said a prayer
Just one reaction to this world where contact comes so rare

Baa baa black sheep, now you lay you down to sleep
Heavy, man, it's a cold world, where the violence at?

The guy who said he'd blow the monument into the air
This is the man all tattered-torn, who tries to make aware
The madness that lies in the house of nuclear warfare
Lonely messenger, they combed a bullet through his hair
If left to your devices, once or twice you will despair
That what this world is coming to is growing hard to bear
Let me say if it suffices, only to declare
Some fairy tale you're running to, the source lies elsewhere

Ashes, ashes, we all fall down
What's become of sympathy, where the violence at?