A sleeping bag full of too much shit
And you burst right in
You almost took the door down
Four hundred pounds
And a racists drunken rage and you take it
Center stage in the middle of the guest room
A small town mind with small town values
Confederate ideas we've stopped to mention
Standing on a soap box but...
No one wants to listen
Come on man, it's three A.M.
We're using careful words to diffuse the room
And then it hits me
Finally starting to see the sign
In discomfort for what it really is
I've got the nerve
To shut your mouth
But not the size or strength
And you're still center stage in the middle of the guest room
A small town mind with smaller values
Confederate ideas we've stopped to mention
Standing on a soap box but...
No one wants to listen
Come on man, it's three A.M.
We're using careful words to diffuse the room
And then it hit me
Someone should just burn this house to the ground
Cause I'd rather be engulfed in flames
Then have to hang out with a bigot like you
Before I go to sleep
Someone should burn this house to the ground...
Someone should burn this house to the ground...
Someone should burn this house to the ground...