Cowboys or indians? Pinkerton to taliban, Tijuana to Nicaragua: It smells like fear. Vietnam to Afghanistan: It tastes like tears. They're crying, crying, they're crying their eyes. They're dying, dying, they're dying to stay alive. I have a dream, I'm down on my knees, choking, gagging. I hear a voice stuck on repeat it says, "Place your right hand over your heart, ready, begin,” But I won't. I won't pledge. I won't pledge allegiance 'til You pledge to never kill another human being N.R.A. to Enola Gay: The end is near. Yes, I object, just like Vonnegut, I'll have none of it: long live ice-9