Drunk Chicken / America Lyrics - U2

America 

America, I've given you all and now I'm nothing 

America, two dollars and twenty-seven cents January 17, 1956 

I can't stand my own mind 

America, when will we end the human war 

Go fuck yourself with your atom bomb 

I don't feel good, don't bother me 

I won't write my poem till I'm in my right mind 

America, when will you be angelic 

When will you take off your clothes 

When will you look at yourself through the grave 

When will you be worthy of your million Trotskyites 

America, why are your libraries full of tears 

America, when will you send your eggs to India 

I'm sick of your insane demands 

When can I go into the supermarket and buy what I need with my good looks 

America, after all, it is you and I who are perfect, not the next world 

Your machinery is too much for me 

You made me want to be a saint 

There must be some other way to settle this argument 

Burroughs is in Tangiers 

I don't think he'll come back, it's sinister 

Are you being sinister or is this some form of practical joke 

I'm trying to come to the point 

I refuse to give up my obsession 

America, stop pushing, I know what I'm doing 

America, the plum blossoms are falling 

I haven't read the newspapers for months 

Everyday somebody goes on trial for murder 

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