The warmonger brings about woe
In our supposed land of the free.
Our lives through his hands flow.
Where he says is where we must go
In chains forged from the freedom tree.
The warmonger brings about woe.
After our fight for liberty so long ago
Came a slaver worse than those who crossed the sea.
Our lives through his hands flow.
A crooked house on our street does grow,
Fit for him to store his trophies of glee.
The warmonger brings about woe.
We tend his garden, his grass we mow.
Even our smallest chores does he oversee.
Our lives through his hands flow.
We reap the monster that we did sow.
From our own creation do we now flee.
The warmonger brings about woe.
Our lives through his hands flow.