Foreign Policies

My country sleeps underneath a pillowsheet. My island is my home. My patriots have spit-up in their throats, and underneath their feet. My fatherland sustains the breach of eerie, iirie oh....my motherland has caught a tiger hanging by its toe. My homey fronts like Peter Pan, my homeland crosses lines. The picture prada appetite is nesting in the Pines. My country's lost her borders, my land has been asleep, my following has a big reward for never seen nor speak. I can't keep promises because I like being paid. I can't keep still, i can't keep true, i can't keep her ever laid.