The tangled webs they weave span from Pine to Ruby Ridge
Back from Shay's defeat on up to Gustafsen
Now cue the ass parade of dittoheads and commissars and pricks
To drown out this faintest threat of commie faggot heretics

The nail that sticks up gets hammered down
The master's finest, finest tools are found
Slack-jawed and placid amidst the cacophony
Of screaming billboards and Disney-fied history

Sometimes the ties that bind are strange
No justice shines upon the cemetery plots marked
Hampton, Weaver, or Anna Mae

Where federal bureaus and fraternal orders
Have cast their shadows
Permanent features built into these borders

But undercover of the customary gap we find between
History and truth, founding fathers
Bask in the rockets blinding red glare
The bombs bursting in air, one nation indivisible

But the truth is the back country learned of ratification
The people had a coffin painted black
And solemnly borne in funeral procession
They buried it deep in the earth as
An emblem of the dissolution
Internment of their Publick Liberty
Someday, somewhere, today's empires
Are tomorrow's ashes