| AD POPULUM FUTURUM |
| To the people of tomorrow, greetings! Greetings from your fathers and mother, heirs of the American dream For in things we are sisters and brothers and cogs in the voting machine For these things we insist are sin; marytrs are flogged and yet keep the pristine Greetings from two thousand and two, beware for we are obscene Where the free yearn to be slaves, Land of the fee and home of depraved Here, good men flee and folly parades To the people of yesterday, greetings. Greetings from the wingless; we dwell in the ruins of your rhinestones Our sings become songless, mushed down ground screwed into the grindstone Their wrongs become wrongless; jackboots step heilin' on the limestone Greetings ex terra incognita, from the damned and the overthrown And the free are remembered in letters Land of decree and home of the fetters Airstrip won and plus unthing matters |