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You say we fight for the red, white and blue,
That our people are this country's foundation,
Like an empty photo album, we've nothing to view,
Slowly becoming three colors rather than a nation.
We stand side by side, we're aligned in formation,
All the while knowing our leader is unprotecting,
Fighting for us, you're not part of our congregation,
That pen in your right hand was built for dissecting.
Don't lie to me George, I fight for your false truth,
Tell me why you had to knock down the towers,
Plucked the seeds of our potential bloom of youth,
To wage wars over something that was never ours.
Preach about battle, but you've never been near one,
Never held your best friend in your arms while he died,
Still you've killed thousands behind a desk with no gun,
Tell us you're proud when you don't know shit about pride.
When my Fiancee is handed her folded flag of glory,
At my funeral after my farewell twenty-one gun salute,
Tell her I died with honor and that her country is sorry,
As we forever bleed, the red, the white and the blue.
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