Thought, word & deed once sloganeered: a reaction undefined. 
The battle-hymn, the mantra of a once unfocused mind. 
But as logic tempered anger, (still inspired, but now informed), 
the "pigs" we'd turned to caricature became far worse that we'd warned. 
Morality enforcement based on the interest of a state. 
Coerced into concordance and threatened into place. 
It's not just isolated incidents of cop-jocks kicking ass. 
It's a fucking war machine protecting the wealth of the employing class. 

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Stick the Fucking Flag up your Goddam Ass, you Son of a Bitch 

My father told me "son, it's futile to resist, 
You can topple ideology but not the armies they enlist." 
I questioned the intentions of the boy scouts chanting war. 
"Well that's the sound of freedom, son" he said. 
(Free to say no more.) 
But wait a minute dad, did you actually say freedom? 
Well, if you're dumb enough to vote, 
You're fuckin dumb enough to believe him. 
Cuz if this country is so goddam free, 
Then I can burn your fucking flag wherever I damn well please. 
I carried their anthem, convinces it was mine. 
Rhymeless, unreasoned conjecture kept me in line. 
But then I stood back and wondered what the fuck had they done to me. 
Made accomplice to all that I'd promised I would never fucking be. 
Never be. 
You carry their anthem convinces that it's yours. 
Invitation to honor. Invitation to war. 
Bette Midler now assumes sainthood. 
Romanticize murder for moral. 
Tie a yellow ribbon round the oak tree my friend, 
And "Gee Wally, that's swell!" 
Fuck the troops to hell! 

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