Fascism knocking at a nation’s door,
Rallies against the immigrant poor,
As an angry man implores—
And they come by the hundred score,
Stoking rage as anger whirls,
Convincing us that criminals pour
Into the country—
Clutch your pearls!

They shout “theft!”
In speeches on the corrupted state
And the lost, immoral left,
Till Lady Liberty stands bereft;
Her children’s hate-filled minds
Are all that’s left.

March twenty-third, nineteen thirty-three:
The day the Germans
Sold their rights for free,
Convinced by a party
That spoke of vermin—
Classes of people
That they’d determined
To exile, round up, and deport.
And tell me,
Why did they come
For the socialists first?

They called for nationalism,
Rooted out communism,
Split the people
Into hate divisions,
Spinning new threads
From old traditions.
“Just vote for him,
And never need to vote again”—
To make their Germany great again.
It was all they had to do.

Hyperbole? Is that what you think this is?
Never forget those people that day,
Who thought they were part of a good play,
Believing they were on the side of right,
Convinced by manufactured fright,
Burning books—and reason,
Ignited by the voice and slogan
Of a new far-Reich.