We have to bomb, you say,
because they throw gay men off buildings.
He was white, and drunk, the man in the bar
who denounced my friends for kissing
and muttered something bitter
as he saw me leave the loo,
and the people most upset by this
were my American friends, reminded
that they could've been fired in Missouri
if their love had been uncovered,
and so moved here, 6000 miles from home,
to live and die free.
The bad guys throw gays off buildings.
You're the good guys: you only
escort us to the door.