Fight for Liberation

In the draft board here we sit Covered o'er with Nixon's shit While our sweat is turning Agnew's filthy mill And the people, as they pass They jam Melvin up our ass Well I guess we've had our goddam fucking fill Fight, fight, fight for liberation Break, break, break the social scheme We will drag the bastards down And we'll grind 'em in the ground And replace them with a working class regime Then we'll send a firing squad After Cardinal Spellman's God MacNamara will be the next in line Then we'll pump some LSD Into Jackie Kennedy And we'll make her fuck the workers overtime Then we'll get a bloody rope And we'll hang the fuckin' pope And we'll burn the Sistine Chapel to the ground Then we'll turn our tommy-guns On the screaming, ravished nuns And the peoples' voice will be the only sound So if you hate the Working Class, But you'd like to save your ass Then you better give your money to the poor! Or we'll sell your mother's twat To a sailor on your yacht And we'll turn your favorite daughter to a whore!