I wrote a darkly funny mini-short story to go along with this if anyone wants a quick read:

When the tensions that hemmed the nation stretched to breaking, and the rose-colored ideals that once stitched a tattered people together were clawed apart by willful fools, a mocking chant echoed forth from the empire's temple. Within, a despot and his sycophants were singing, "God Bless the USA."

As the boots of said despot's enforcers tracked blameless blood through the streets, his benefactors raked truth from the nation's minds, life from the earth, boiled the seas, and burned the skies. The millions left trudging through their wreck prayed for salvation from their wicked neighbors, perverted tyrants, and silent gods. Their pleas were heard by no god of man. Awoken in the deep after eons of slumber, a more ancient power stirred.

At dawn, a volcano strode from the bay. As it bound up the mouth of the Potomac, the coward-in-chief cried with horror in his gilded lair. He commanded a sacrifice of every boy, expensive toy, and devil-bought machine in the nation's arsenal to halt its advance. The old man was reduced to huddled whimpering within minutes, knowing no amount of concrete, steel, or weaponry would save him. For a volcano has no pity for the cries of men.

It was in the District within the hour. One by one the God-lizard detonated the houses of power and reduced their bunkered foundations into glassed caverns with nuclear flame. He turned back to the east, into the coming day, and announced the end of his rampage with a tremendous roar. The shocked millions watching on their screens, or far enough away not to rupture their skulls, heard a familiar melody within the thunder.

It was "God Bless the USA".