Thin Crust

They want to take us from our homes
They want taps on our telephones
'Cause they know the storm's coming

The ones that wear the ties and suits
Will send out fiends in riot boots
In hopes they'll send us running

So paint me black in soot and smoke
Among the crowds that block the road
The one's you've come to make examples

And mow me down to make me free
Eliminate all empathy
You care not how many you trample

But we will scream our cause under the open archways
And ring the bells off telephones
And you will find that not even your ruthless armies
Can drag our bodies from our homes

They want to see us interact
We're just a file in a stack
Of people who they deem distrustful

And as the list grows more and more
Strewn all across the White House floor
You'll find that you've found yourself a handful

And we won't be the martyrs on your broken crosses
And add insult to our broken bones
And you will find that when we're left to our devices
We're all we need to rebuild our homes