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The air is fresh, the day is bright, in God we trust, it is our right to shake the world by it's collective heels and pick up all the change assign to them an hourly wage and find some pants with an elastic Waste and want we juxtapose, entire lands at our dispose, battalions of the cheapest workers. Tiny fingers, tiny hands, we'll work them hard because we can, it's so decreed on all our currency Scream-loud as you can-Scream Visions in your worst dreams, nightmares All are true and bloom because of you. Each blade of grass and grain of sand residing on this sun-kissed land has all been weighed and valued sacred, that we may take our bigger stick and whack the dark, irreverent wrist, and keep tabs close, so that it's not Let out the pants, undo your belt, there's room for war But not for guilt, we must maintain our living standards Lop all the heads off at the breast of those who thwart our holy quest, yes, throngs will die-but our great land will thrive Scream-loud as you can-Scream Visions in your worst dreams, nightmares All are true and bloom because of you. Fly-ghosts in the night-Fly shrieks piercing the night sky, specters at our door, washing up on the shore. But I can pull the blankets up over my head tonight. I'm fine right here. It's warm inside the lie. From Letras Mania