Dear Mr. President
Dear Mr. President by controversial artist P!nk , is a powerful song about America under the presidency of George Bush. Written to stress her concerns, the song varies between sad, angry and teary moments.
Structurally, the song is almost flawless. The meter matches, which can be proven in the first stanza where the meter is 6, 6, 8 and 8 syllables to the lines. Meanwhile, the second 'verse' is inconsistent in terms of meter, but is still not far off.
The language used is fairly basic, there are few unusual or intriguing words to capture the audiences attention in spite of this, I don't believe this faults the piece as a whole.
The imagery used in this piece is immaculate, the use of the metaphor, "They're all sitting in your cells while you pave the road to hell.":, refering to the amount of black poor people in jail during the period in which George Bush was president, is a strong stand against Bush's ways. In addition to this the line, "What kid of father would take his own daughters rights away? And what kind of father might hate his own daughter if she were gay?" , is talking about the right wing nature that President Bush believed in. For example, women should not be allowed to get an abortion and that you should not be allowed to be gay, two topics which are controversial in themselves.
The rhythm throughout is calm and steady. However in the bridge the rhythm becomes faster and gives an angrier vibe. The repetition in this stanza,
"Let me tell you 'bout hard work, Hard work, Hard work, You don't know nothing 'bout hard work, Hard work, Hard work" , gives the idea of anger within the poet, in the way that they feel as if George Bush has done nothing to get where he is, and people are suffering because of this.
Structurally, the song is almost flawless. The meter matches, which can be proven in the first stanza where the meter is 6, 6, 8 and 8 syllables to the lines. Meanwhile, the second 'verse' is inconsistent in terms of meter, but is still not far off.
The language used is fairly basic, there are few unusual or intriguing words to capture the audiences attention in spite of this, I don't believe this faults the piece as a whole.
The imagery used in this piece is immaculate, the use of the metaphor, "They're all sitting in your cells while you pave the road to hell.":, refering to the amount of black poor people in jail during the period in which George Bush was president, is a strong stand against Bush's ways. In addition to this the line, "What kid of father would take his own daughters rights away? And what kind of father might hate his own daughter if she were gay?" , is talking about the right wing nature that President Bush believed in. For example, women should not be allowed to get an abortion and that you should not be allowed to be gay, two topics which are controversial in themselves.
The rhythm throughout is calm and steady. However in the bridge the rhythm becomes faster and gives an angrier vibe. The repetition in this stanza,
"Let me tell you 'bout hard work, Hard work, Hard work, You don't know nothing 'bout hard work, Hard work, Hard work" , gives the idea of anger within the poet, in the way that they feel as if George Bush has done nothing to get where he is, and people are suffering because of this.
Dear Mr. President,
Come take a walk with me.
Let's pretend we're just two people and
You're not better than me.
I'd like to ask you some questions if we can speak honestly.
What do you feel when you see all the homeless on the street?
Who do you pray for at night before you go to sleep?
What do you feel when you look in the mirror?
Are you proud?
How do you sleep while the rest of us cry?
How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye?
How do you walk with your head held high?
Can you even look me in the eye
And tell me why?
Dear Mr. President,
Were you a lonely boy?
Are you a lonely boy?
Are you a lonely boy?
How can you say
No child is left behind?
We're not dumb and we're not blind.
They're all sitting in your cells
While you pave the road to hell.
What kind of father would take his own daughter's rights away?
And what kind of father might hate his own daughter if she were gay?
I can only imagine what the first lady has to say
You've come a long way from whiskey and cocaine.
How do you sleep while the rest of us cry?
How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye?
How do you walk with your head held high?
Can you even look me in the eye?
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Minimum wage with a baby on the way
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Rebuilding your house after the bombs took them away
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Building a bed out of a cardboard box
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Hard work
Hard work
You don't know nothing 'bout hard work
Hard work
Hard work
Oh
How do you sleep at night?
How do you walk with your head held high?
Dear Mr. President,
You'd never take a walk with me.
Would you?
Come take a walk with me.
Let's pretend we're just two people and
You're not better than me.
I'd like to ask you some questions if we can speak honestly.
What do you feel when you see all the homeless on the street?
Who do you pray for at night before you go to sleep?
What do you feel when you look in the mirror?
Are you proud?
How do you sleep while the rest of us cry?
How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye?
How do you walk with your head held high?
Can you even look me in the eye
And tell me why?
Dear Mr. President,
Were you a lonely boy?
Are you a lonely boy?
Are you a lonely boy?
How can you say
No child is left behind?
We're not dumb and we're not blind.
They're all sitting in your cells
While you pave the road to hell.
What kind of father would take his own daughter's rights away?
And what kind of father might hate his own daughter if she were gay?
I can only imagine what the first lady has to say
You've come a long way from whiskey and cocaine.
How do you sleep while the rest of us cry?
How do you dream when a mother has no chance to say goodbye?
How do you walk with your head held high?
Can you even look me in the eye?
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Minimum wage with a baby on the way
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Rebuilding your house after the bombs took them away
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Building a bed out of a cardboard box
Let me tell you 'bout hard work
Hard work
Hard work
You don't know nothing 'bout hard work
Hard work
Hard work
Oh
How do you sleep at night?
How do you walk with your head held high?
Dear Mr. President,
You'd never take a walk with me.
Would you?