The militia at ready, two lanterns shown,

Marching by land, here the redcoats come.

Revere rode off, into that night,

“The British are coming,” it’ll be a great fight.

Rising up to fight tyranny, us Yankees did win.

Aiming cap ball guns, to shoot the king’s men.

Now, two hundred years later the courts maintain,

We all have rights to own guns, but it’s not the same.

Locked and loaded with thirty bullets to spare,

A gunman shoots; hope you’re not there.

Weapons of war, loose on our streets,

And the gun lobby gets hot, whenever we say,

“That’s not what it’s about, take them away.”

How could our founders know,

Modern guns, built for war would become,

Weapons turned in on us,

The innocent ones.