Revolutionaries held the flag
That called the King out about his role
And wrote the argument that broke the bonds
Of tyranny, taxes and unrighteous holds
When trivial things cross our daily paths
There’s rarely need to raise up arms
And then, one day, a message comes
And calls us out to sound alarms
“Don’t tread on me,” comes the cry.
“We will not take it from you now,
We’ve had our fill of what you’re dishin’.
Back away or stand your ground–
either way,we’re through with wishin’.
There’s no wrath that can stop us now.”
So, send the sentry, light the lantern
All the years of diplomacy behind
Wasted when you shot me coldly
Right in the back, you shot me only.
But I don’t die. Oops, the jokes on you.
Word Play 