The Post Office Bomb

At sundown,
grab your gun
and C4.
I've staked it out.

We're gonna bomb the local post office.
We'll fight for our father's original intention;
Here comes the bloody revolution.

At sundown,
I'll set the bomb;
when it goes off,
we'll be in Canada.

I'm sick of dreaming of the better days:
Paris 68, Rome 70, Chicago 68, 1917.
Small bombs are better than none.

When Jefferson returned to Monticello,
and the railroads and banks had moved in,
he cried: "What we feared is happening again."

If it was up to them,
they'd suspend the constitution
and all deviants would be high strung.
This I call treason.

At sundown,
kill your nerves
and say goodbye
to who you were.

Leaving trains are all the same.
Gotta move fast,
gotta think fast,
gotta move like the minutemen
after the bomb blast