We dare defend our rights
Blessed are the meek
Unless it’s four little girls in Sunday school
Learning how to turn the other cheek
Or the younguns lashed with brimstone tongues
Boys like girls, and girls like boys
Or the hijos watching Papa patted down
In the blue lights and siren’s noise
Old pappy, can you hear it
On the soft Southern breeze
There’s hollering in the streets
We dare defend our rights
We’re trying to work on this Holy Ghost building
To make these children a home
But us kids are getting restless
And you won’t even cut the front porch light on
You’ve got every window boarded
You’ve got every last door barred
If you won’t let us lay the plans on the supper table
We’ll build the thing in your front damn yard
Old pappy, can you hear us
On the soft Southern breeze
There’s hollering in the streets
We dare defend our rights
Show me what you can build up
Show me what you can burn down
Show me what you can build up
Show me what you can burn down