Nice Country

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Congratulations on your country
you chose a lovely place to build it
here on the edge of our city on the waves
we have a golden bell that never rings
an anchor never weighed
and four rusty blades

They say beyond the gates
you’ve got a shithole of a place
but I haven’t asked the strawberry blonde from Romania
reading pulp and drinking rockstar in her little pink ankle socks
are probably bigger balls than I’ve got
I can’t believe how beautiful everybody is when we’re young and taking a long shot

the roaring chains call it a day
by last light we’ll be away
as the deck fades from gray to international orange

we’ll leave a smudge on the horizon
like the chicken in the stew
steaming in the mess hall every night
God the air out here is nice
swallows flocking out of nowhere, with their tails in a V
see you next week