You can carve your name into a tree
That don't mean you own it
Oh
Land of the free
Everything is free when you're stealing
No mountains that you can't see
Five hundred years American nightmare

Nothing could be worse than putting in words the books
I don't buy it, for a second, you tried to supply them with pictures
Slave owners and idiot killers
In the shadow of the hills that are black
White man's gone too far
Now it's time to give it back

And it's slowly bleeding out the past and never left
Listen to the sound of the drum over the mountains
You can hear it
Listen to the sound of the drum
You can hear it getting nearer

Prime time evening news
Cover the spectacular fireworks in red, white and blue
Color now within, it can't reach
And get down on my knees every chance we get to worship
Shameless faces in high places