From the recording hippiefaggottraitorpeacepussies
Lyrics
I’m marching down to DC
With a camera in my hand
One foot loosely planted
The other is about to land
Projecting on the landscape
Reflection of corporate power
A man dressed like an eagle
Holding pixilated dollars
Genetically modified goonsquads
Piss on the book of law
Out behind the Bush’s
In the name of shock and awe
Pointing with his oily finger
His pigs they run to play
Trampling civilians
That have too much to say
(we have too much to say)
We reach out to stop them
Our numbers don’t stop the hogs
Roosters peckin’ eyeballs
We’re running from the dogs
No matter how clear we speak
They just do not care
Pretending to secure the peace
While projecting fear
I tried to explain my position
My words could not penetrate
Those cellophane exteriors
Or the shields on their face
With fists gripped on sticks
They’re swinging for the fence
The great American pastime
Power and violence
(maintaining dominance)
the projection of a landscape
dissipates to a burning haze
it seeps off the screen
and floats off the stage
floating to the sidelines
to the comfort of our drones
securing the homeland
with bugs on our phones
I saw uncle Sam and Tom Ridge
Just the other night
Courting in the bit-stream
Feeding their appetite
Eating apples and our freedoms
Anything they please
Civil liberties are just a gift
so get down on your knees
(down on your knees)