When fools build a caricature and call it a crown,

Blindness is bliss in the new double down.

The Republic will crumble and walls start to tumble

But no care is taken to the cause of our stumble

We secure victory and revel in bliss

No effort no pining for the standards we miss

Its power we’re craving and “new” ways we’re paving

We’re forging the fetters of our own enslaving

Its my rights alone and you come along

If you see things my way then we have song

But don’t sing my tune you’ll find out soon

Its trample and stample to your old dusty rune

We cry Constitution and say its for me

But don’t you dare cross me and say its for thee

We want what we’re getting wherever its setting

And laugh at the rights of the ones who are fretting

We say that its right because we’ve always done this

And one can’t say “No” to how we’ve always won this

Some berries are red The fiddle his head

You stop us from picking Your rights have no cred

When tables are turned and we take a stand

To keep those we wish to stay out of our land

Double your standards run up on their lanyards

Your words will come back like drunken old tankards

So we might be gladden to forage with glee

On land bought and paid for, but no not by thee

Its our own tradition Its worth the sedition

If need be we’ll trample that old Constitution

When fools build a caricature and call it a crown,

Blindness is bliss in the new double down.

The Republic will crumble and walls start to tumble

But no care is taken to the cause of our stumble