Freedom Song

Freedom, let it rule where man can stand it
and bring it to the rest on skids of gold;
for that exalted truth is what refines us
and separates us from the men of old.
But when we take the streets to call for freedom
let us recall we carved it out of wax,
and before we lit its flame to light our future,
it merely meant, "fuck you, and your fat tax."

Freedom, its the loftiest of callings
and man has never held a higher cause.
For that exalted truth is both our zenith
and the basis of all human rights and laws.
But when we take the streets to call for freedom
let us recall we've fought it all along,
and those that are not white, or male or landed,
have suffered for those rights through many wrongs.

Freedom, let its anthem ring forever
and carry across the land from sea to sea,
for that exalted truth must be our soul's song,
and each voice must sing it loud till all are free.
But when we take the streets to call for freedom
let us recall we've heard this song before:
it's the tune our leaders call when they've decided
to pour our children's blood on foreign shores.

Freedom, a worthy cause to fight and die for
and let us swear these deaths were not in vain,
for that exalted truth is God's own gift,
and in its pursuit we stand to guard God's reign.
But when we take the streets to call for freedom
let us recall what deeds bestow that prize,
for freedom in man's hands is often measured
in lies, and pain, and deaths, and broken lives.