You can carve your name into a tree That don't mean you own it Oh Land of the free Everything is free when you're stealing No mountains that you can't see Five hundred years American nightmare
Nothing could be worse than putting in words the books I don't buy it, for a second, you tried to supply them with pictures Slave owners and idiot killers In the shadow of the hills that are black White man's gone too far Now it's time to give it back
And it's slowly bleeding out the past and never left Listen to the sound of the drum over the mountains You can hear it Listen to the sound of the drum You can hear it getting nearer
Prime time evening news Cover the spectacular fireworks in red, white and blue Color now within, it can't reach And get down on my knees every chance we get to worship Shameless faces in high places
