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