I remember when we changed the world with a buck and a dream.
We had attitude bursting at the seams,
with faith in everything.
I remember when still felt pride in the Fourth of July.
You held my hand, screaming at the sky
with faith in everything.
And now the temples of my younger days,
destroyed by fear and hate.
The temples of my younger days,
the floods washed them away.
A civilized sacrifice.
Push back all the progress
and drown out all the voices.
You kill off the culture and topple the altars
and threaten us with violence.
Home is where the heart is
but this is where the art lives.
I’ve got faith in a temple of my own.
I’ve got faith in a temple of my own.
I wanna storm the Oval Office,
spit on your fucking throne.
Cause I’ve got faith in a temple of my own.
The temples of my younger days,
the floods washed them away.
This is where the art lives.
This is where the mourners come to pray.