America, the beautiful America, the murderer America, the funeral America, God bless America They just scared 'cause they don't understand us Give me my freedom Run from these demons Please don't give 'em a reason

Hey ey ey ey ey ey You know what they say 'Cause it's a new day, we're gonna go far Knuckle down, trim, and shake off the dead weight You can't hide from your ghosts 'Cause it's a new day, I wanna go far Break it down, jump the gun, find a new way I'm

Expectations Prom Queen, Miss America In the backseat in a pair of cuffs Never be Miss America Baby, innocence one day gonna be decadence Sixteen, little runaway From the Five-O and you got away

I am the, I am the, I am the sick boy And we can pick sides, but this is us, this is us, this is I live on the west side of America How many likes is my life worth? I'm from the east side of America They say that I am the sick boy Feed yourself with my

In comes the flood Wake up America (America, America, I shed these words for thee) All hail Praises be to thee Oh ye paper deity As we hail our sacred cow To the bankers we will bow Endless profit from their wars Making slaves of all the poor

America, America And the red man is right, to expect a little from you And my brothers are all black and white, yellow too Promise and then follow through, America Well I come from, down around Tennessee But the people in California Are nice to me,

I can see the stars From America So open your eyes and see The way our horizons meet And all of the lights will lead Into the night with me And I know these scars will bleed But both of our hearts believe All of these stars will guide us home

(Open your eyes before you die) We're here because of you We're here because you were there We've arrived from every corner of the planet to this nation To seek the fulfillment of a promise of America We were promised a better life in our home

Fighting on arrival, fighting for survival Buffalo Soldier, Dreadlock Rasta Singing, woe yoe yoe, woe woe yoe yoe In the heart of America Stolen from Africa, brought to America Said he was a Buffalo Soldier Win the war for America Woe yoe yoe yo, yo yo

I am the, I am the, I am the sick boy And we can pick sides, but this is us, this is us, this is I live on the west side of America How many likes is my life worth? I'm from the east side of America They say that I am the sick boy Feed yourself with my