Smoke and mirrors, smoking guns
Predicated off of the fears we love
Wave the flags, raise the guns
Bathing in the oceans of blood
Of our daughters
Of our sons
Feed the hunger, feed the greed
Stolen from the mouths of poverty
They'll sell it to you, they'll sell it to me
We the people can no longer see
What is truth
Or fantasy
Where we are
Or who we'll be
They've blindfolded our common sense
Pushed into line led by the farmer's prize swine
These are the days of the dingo
The packs at our heels again
The treachery our history
So now you f** me once again
Your colors blend and bleed to red
Smoke and mirrors, smoking guns
Predicated off of the fears we love
Raise your voices, take a stand
Its about drawing a line in the sand!