Napoleans Nose

Through the skiff
I can see
Napoleons nose
And the yellow giants
The high-rises
With their flags all flapping
And a big white house
Sitting quiet and empty
The fear of the other
Still more than a-plenty
The embers of hate are blown
Against gently
In the hearth of the Lord in the morning
Through the skiff
I can see
The radio towers
On top of Black Mountain