Song for the Fourth

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July 03, 2005

Song for the Fourth

One says O and the other says O
Say can you see beautiful spacious skies,
Whose bright stars we proudly hailed in the twilight's last gleaming?
Broad-striped amber waves of grain, and purple mountain majesties
by the dawn's early light,
Sound good to me.

Wherefore the perilous fight; or peering o'er ramparts above the fruited plain
At rockets' red glare, America, America?
God shed his grace on thee, and crowned thy brotherhood with good
Proof through the night
That your flag is still there, America, America,
Land of the brave,
Home of the Free;
How now bombs bursting in air
From sea to shining sea?

[You're supposed to hear this as dramatic spoken word by, say, Laurence Fishburne, over an Ivesian-sort-of music bed.]

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