well i thought we'd arrived at a tract in our history

where we'd fought every endeavor we could fight

yet i shuddered with grim preconception

as the cannonade erupted into light

and my ocular gaze lay dehiscent

it seemed that i could not look away

and every god fearing son was a patriot

and victory remained elusive

just one bomb away

oh yeah one bomb away



and they say that customs will reconcile people

to any atrocity - (George Bernard Shaw)

from dachau to belfast to baghdad

from sea to shining sea



and they say that when fascism crosses our borders

it'll be wrapped up in a shroud

glowing red, white, and blue

and our rectors they say will explain it away

as the ravings of a passionate few



well i happened to visit a slaughterhouse

where cessation's redolence rose to the sky

and propitious creatures await a most virulent fate

which their pacific demeanor belies

it was a place i don't care to return to

whose chambers compassion would not recognize

where slaughter is sanctification

and humanity covers it's eyes



covers it's eyes



my country 'tis of thee

sweet land of liberty

of thee i sing of thee i sing



i don't want to be a patriot

if being a patriot means being like you