Winter in Her Blood

Poisoned blackened veins like the roads through the grasses of North America
It's an old hand that carries the candle through the dark

Praying, shaking
Praying and shaking
Winter in her blood

Panicked
Confused
Desperation in the flicker of light on the whites of her eyes

Moaning, gasping, clutching a screwdriver, stabbing franticly
It looks like Ms. America got into the pills again
She tripped on some errant talking points and broke her hip on Afghanistan
Heavy lies the crown

We're not the first and we won't be the last