White collared conservatives, flashing down the street, pointing their plastic fingers at me. They’re hoping soon my kind will drop and die, but I’m gonna wave my freak flag high.

White collared conservatives, flashing down the street, pointing their plastic fingers at me. They’re hoping soon my kind will drop and die, but I’m gonna wave my freak flag high.

Now Jesus, he don't like killing, no matter what the reason is for, and your flag decal won't get you into heaven anymore.

The moon is swimming naked and the summer night is fragrant with a mighty expectation of relief.