Oil up your shotgun for the time of your life   And tell the wife that you won't be home tonight      Lock up your daughters in the hickory shack   And jump in the back of my pick-up truck, all right      We're gonna go downtown where the action is   We're gonna plug a couple nigger-lovin' communists   We're never ever ever gonna hear from them again      And it's open season, so open fire!   We got shit for brains and guns for hire!      It's a dirty job, but that's the price you have to pay   Here in Lynchtown   Lynchtown, USA!      Call up my uncle, he's the chief of police,   The justice of peace, and the circuit judge besides      We'll round up a couple of the good ol' boys   We gotta make some noise, but let's leave our hoods behind      We gotta show these long-hairs where it's at   With burning crosses and baseball bats   And they'll never ever be seen or heard again      And in Lynchtown, nobody ever sings   They don't know where they were or know what they did   So it's the easiest thing      And it's open season, so open fire!   We got shit for brains and guns for fire!      It's a dirty job, but that's the price you have to pay   Here in Lynchtown   Lynchtown, USA!