If they all had presidential immunity all day,
And if only America were a little further away,
George could ask Seal Team Six to assassinate John.
But it may not be a good time to be out until dawn.
Whatever its shape, some have found hate,
Where the long shadows start at eight.
In the stillness of nights, they tempt fate,
Ticking away time to the rhythm of prate.
If only the ground were a distant sight,
Perhaps Bill could demand the CIA snuff out Barack.
In the blood and strife of the night,
They'd have achieved hades as they attacked.
Whatever the hour, we should silently contemplate,
Early or late, who wants the opponent’s head on a silver plate?
Who can pray the flow of gravity to loosen its grip?
Can we each soar with love on that patriotic airship?
If only we’d listen to the stars' whispered secrets,
Then we could hear their tales of harmony discreetly,
In the stillness of the cosmic night,
We'd find solace in the northern star’s guiding light.
But alas, we are bound to earthly bounds,
Where dreams may soar, yet reality grounds.
Still, we'll all reach for the sky above,
And cherish the ground with boundless love.