What we call America

I try to speak, but I'm feeling kinda weak. I feel a close in my throat while that hand slowly chokes. The hand they call democracy. I see it all around me. I see it on the tv. Its power always frightening me. If they wanted me to disappear, I know they could. And if I were them, I would. And maybe I should. Because their power is killing me. Can you hear me? If you can then sing along to my melody. Before they kill me. Do you feel me? Now im gone so I'm gone from your imagery. No longer a visionary. Hope you saw something nobody else could see. I hope that now Im gone that you will pray for me. Sing a song in my memory.For now Ill say goodbye. No time to cry. Just dont let them lie. To you and with all you do. Listen to my song and you'll be singing too.