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