My country ‘tis of theocracy
Swift land of hypocrisy, of thee we shout;
Land where our fathers died
Land where our mothers cried
From every mountainside, resistance mounts.
My native country, gone
Land where once freedom won, thee I lament
I loved thy rock and roll
And thy Rasmussen poll
My heart with terror fills, per their intent.
Let anger swell the breeze
Get thee up off your knees, in freedom’s name;
Let mortal tongues awake
Let all that breathe partake
Let rocks their silence break, get in the game.
Our father’s God, to Thee
A vast apology, Thy name in vain
Long may our land be bright
With freedom’s holy light
Raise us up for the fight, and freedom gain.
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My Country Was of Thee:
My country,’ tis of thee,
sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing;
land where my fathers died,
land of the pilgrims’ pride,
from every mountainside let freedom ring!
My native country, thee,
land of the noble free, thy name I love;
I love thy rocks and rills,
thy woods and templed hills;
my heart with rapture thrills, like that above.
Let music swell the breeze,
and ring from all the trees sweet freedom’s song;
let mortal tongues awake;
let all that breathe partake;
let rocks their silence break, the sound prolong.
Our fathers’ God, to thee,
author of liberty, to thee we sing;
long may our land be bright
with freedom’s holy light;
protect us by thy might, great God, our King.