We will count down ev'ry hour
and we'll mark off ev'ry day
'til your marxist reign is over,
'til, at last, you're dragged away
to the cheering of the People,
to our deafening, “Hurray,”
'til your High Noon we call our
Second Independence Day.
A year is all that's left to you,
in days – three sixty-six.
Ev'ry hour, minute, second
ev'ry eye will now affix
to a timepiece that's convenient,
any calendar or clock,
to see how long we must play Hobbes
instead of playing Locke.
We will count down ev'ry hour
and we'll mark off ev'ry day
'til your marxist reign is over,
'til, at last, you're dragged away
to our swelling songs of Liberty,
to fireworks display,
'til your High Noon we call our
Second Independence Day
One last year for your treacheries
each a reminder how
if not for cowardly Congress
you'd be impeached right now.
One last year for your legacy
of rack and ruin and coup.
One last year for your villainy...
'til last we're free of you.
We will count down ev'ry hour
and we'll mark off ev'ry day
'til your marxist reign is over,
'til, at last, you're dragged away
to feasts of friends and families,
to toast and repartee,
'til your High Noon we call our
Second Independence Day
To the cheering of the People,
to our deafening, “Hurray!”
to our swelling songs of Liberty,
to fireworks display,
to feasts of friends and families,
to toast and repartee,
come your High Noon we call our
Second Independence Day.
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