It has been said that democracy is like a train, and we’ll get out when we arrive at the station we want. The station the Democrats want is a minority white country in which they have permanent power. When I look back on it I wonder how we let it happen. How did we allow the Democratic Party to surrender the country to two third world cultures, Mexicans and American Blacks? We are in serious danger of becoming a third world country, in danger of becoming a minority in our own land, the land white people built out of a howling wilderness. The recent history of third world countries is one of tyranny, corruption and presidents for life. We are very close to being there. Politicians lie, the media lies, and we even lie to ourselves, but demographics tells the truth.

I was eight years old and in my hometown
I wandered all alone
In the summertime from the dawn to dusk
I had no need to phone
I was out of touch but my parents knew
That I would be okay
For the neighborhood took good care of us
When we went out to play
But the times they changed and the neighborhood
Turned color overnight
And I went to school where I tried to keep
Out of the daily fight
When the country changed into us and them
And they said we kept them down
I was now a man and a stranger in
What once was my hometown
As the years went by and the Mexicans
Came across the Rio Grande
And the jobs were gone and the mills were closed
We who built it lost our land
As the votes went to all the lefties who
Promised stars and apple pie
And the blacks and browns left us all to ask
What had happened, how and why
I’m an old man now and I tell my kids
My granddaughter and grandsons
That worse will come and it won’t be long
You had better get some guns
But I still can see what it is we’ve lost
As we’ve torn the country down
In my mind’s eye the streets still shine
In what once was my hometown