It's the end of the world And I feel fine A moment away I take my time Middle Church Burning in the cold low hum of holy motors Black smoke Coughing through their mask Old man is taking pictures The people didn't make a sound A humming bled all around Morning in America Morning in America And I don't know what this started But it's coming up slowly and hauled in a bag You ask me the question of, "Who made the rats?" And I can't explain it, and you're never convinced I just don't have the words, they don't make words for this You hold it down and buy it back It's bending more now, the mortar is cracked But they don't complain about the noise from above The neighbors hear the scream enough Morning in America Morning in America If they could hear the picture, it'd sound like this A gasping confirmation that they exist It echoes through the city and passes on I hear it every evening and every dawn Morning in America It's morning in America And I don't know what this started You hold it down and buy it back It's bending more now, the mortar is cracked But they don't complain about the noise from above The neighbors hear the screams enough Morning in America Morning in America