With a great big tip o’ me tam to that most stalwart of Patriots, Johnny Cash
Original here.

The Ragged Old Flag Flies Again

I walked down the streets of my old hometown
Through crowds of people protestin’
Who said we were racists and nazis and worse
For demanding our gub’mint protect us
From criminals, thieves and terrorist scum
That would sneak o’or our borders at night
And steal all our jobs for a pitiful wage
And never give us a fair fight

They march through our streets hoisting high
Our flag that has seen us along
Making the show that this one simple act
Will prove that they truly belong
But that ragged old flag that tugs at our hearts
And has seen her share of the pain
That helped forge a nation of wretched refuse
Is being drug through the muck and is stained
She stood tall at the fort when our anthem was writ
And she led e’ery charge in the south
And she stood tall and proud when the japs came a’callin’
At Pearl Harbors doomed mouth
She flew brave and true on Mount Suribachi
And solemnly she waved on the morn
When the japanese people surrendered at last
‘Neath the guns of Big Mo’s mighty form

She sailed on the ships that delivered our boys
To the dark rancid jungles of ‘Nam
And led all the fights that raged through the nights
Heavy with death and napalm
She carried the fight to the Taliban thugs
That harbored our enemies might
And led the brave charge of the Lads of Fal’ujah
Who gave of their all in that fight
She continues to sail o’er every sea
And to bring hope and light to the masses
But the latest attack on Old Glories greatness
Is being trampled in our highschool classes

The kids of today take Ol’ Glory down
And use her to take a bold stand
By hoisting her up ‘neath a mexican flag
Upside down, stating “This is our land”

She’s held in esteem for her history is brave
For with her comes freedom unhinged
But her brave noble past is taken away
And used by the criminal fringe
But one can’t fly the flag
And hold true to the heart
Of what truth Old Glory stands for
If you do not realize that by breaking the law
You haven’t earned your place on our shore.

Said Kender @ 7:07 pm | Permalink   

1. A Song for St. Tammany’s Day

   On Schuylkill’s banks how sweet to rove!
   Fidelia by my side;
   The nymphs and swains in every grove
   Walk like bridegroom and bride.
   Behold yon cott in gayest mood!
   Doth cleave the silver wave;
   ‘Whilst boys behind each corps of wood,
   Their limbs do freely lave.

   The variegated hills and dales!
   Are drest in lively green;
   The orchards and embroider’d vales,
   With richest flowers are seen.

   The little lasses dance and sing!
   And in the alcoves play;
   All nature now is on the wing!
   In all the pride of May.

   Comment by Farmer John — 5/1/2006 @ 5:56 am

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