| The country is a bleeding child
|
| And a broken, withered whore
|
| With righteous anger, time after time
|
| Come clawing at her door
|
| And the fatherless child, running wild
|
| Screaming — no no more
|
| Please believe — my hands are clean
|
| I’ve never seen the guillotine
|
| Must you say I’m guilty, guilty all the same?
|
| Such things can’t be in my USA
|
| 'Cause no no no, it just can’t be
|
| In a land like mine, all decent and free
|
| You must be mistaken, not my country
|
| Such things happen across the sea
|
| No no no, not my land
|
| You’re green and rotting corpses are reeking in the sun
|
| Calvary horses laying in their dung
|
| And the plague on your household’s only just begun
|
| You can see that it’s come
|
| You raise up the guns
|
| And aim them to blot out the sun
|
| But no no no, it just can’t be
|
| In a land like mine, decent and free
|
| You must be mistaken, not my country
|
| Such things happen across the sea
|
| No no no, not my land
|
| I’ll go on giving to charity
|
| Long as I needn’t look back at life
|
| I’ll go to church, be proud of my piety
|
| I’ll pray only when you say it’s all right
|
| I want to follow in your society
|
| 'Cause I’m too damned scared to fight
|
| I will close myself up in a wall
|
| Pretend I can’t see or hear at all
|
| I will point my finger back across the sea
|
| Ignoring all that goes on around me
|
| Saying «Look what goes on in that other country»
|
| 'Cause no no no, it just can’t be
|
| In a land like mine, decent and free
|
| You must be mistaken, not my country
|
| Such things happen across the sea
|
| No no no, not my land |