My country, I cry for thee,
sweet land without liberty, of thee I sing;
land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrims pride,
from every mountainside, freedom used to ring;
My native country thee,
land of the less than free, of thee I loved;
I loved thy Bill of Rights,
thy protections guaranteed;
before our leaders led with hate and greed.
Let music swell the breeze,
and ring again from all the trees, sweet freedom's song;
let mortal tongues awake;
let all that breath partake;
may the Bush government break, before we're gone.
Our fathers yearned to be free,
authors of liberty, to thee we sing;
soon may our land be bright
with freedom's holy light;
Deliver us freedoms' might, we don't want a king.
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