I wrote this for my country

There is nothing here

We deceived ourselves into believing that there was something left for us
Something we could hold on to
Something we could love and be proud of

But there is nothing left

What is left are broken dreams
Hellish nightmares
Nightmares that cling to you
That wrap themselves around you even as you wake
That walk into your consciousness with you
That terrorize and attack you
That leave you naked and bloody
Such nightmares live here

We wanted so much for it all to be a lie
What they told us in the news
What they told us as children
We wanted it to be a lie
A form of pretense, a game
Falsehood manufactured to keep us away
From a land with gold etched in its soil
A land with rubies dancing in the sky

But there are no rubies here
And there is no gold
Just madness
And barren land

There is nothing here

We deceived ourselves into believing that there was something left for us
Some thing we could hold on to
Something we could love and be proud of

But there is nothing left