A flash of light in the ugly

The gods of America stripped to their clown faces
the flag flies proudly as the lies are revealed
it is always our choice, our demand, our purpose
whether we stand or whether we kneel
we throw in a box the things we never needed
things too scary for a story, too ugly for a song
but the true story will be told
a price will be paid by the guilty and the damned
In chaotic mass uncertainty
We fumbled away our glory
That's the way it goes, always goes - 
Until it doesn't.