Thin Crust

They want to take us from our homes
 They want taps on our telephones
 'Cause they know the storm's coming
 The ones that wear the ties and suits
 Will send out fiends in riot boots
 In hopes they'll send us running
 So paint me black in soot and smoke
 Among the crowds that block the road
 The one's you've come to make examples
 And mow me down to make me free
 Eliminate all empathy
 You care not how many you trample
 But we will scream our cause under the open archways
 And ring the bells off telephones
 And you will find that not even your ruthless armies
 Can drag our bodies from our homes
 They want to see us interact
 We're just a file in a stack
 Of people who they deem distrustful
 And as the list grows more and more
 Strewn all across the White House floor
 You'll find that you've found yourself a handful
 And we won't be the martyrs on your broken crosses
 And add insult to our broken bones
 And you will find that when we're left to our devices
 We're all we need to rebuild our homes