Victim Of A Talk Radio Crisis

I believe the earth is flat
When growing up my bones were never mapped
I know the moon landing was fake
When I look up at the stars, I'm overcome with hate

I'm an idea that America wants to forget
I'm an idea that America wants to forget

I know who controls the weather
And every storm he creates is an absent father
I believe there is a war on Christmas
The voice on thе radio claims we are in crisis

I'm a mistake that Amеrica does not regret
I'm a mistake that America does not regret