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