Complaining about it doesn't mean I want to leave without it. I broke my bed in with my own sweat and nightmares. Anyone else's just wouldn't fit right. And who do you think crafted this place anyhow? The loyalist Tories? The floating diplomats? No, this town, this town is Allentown, Atlantic City, Newark, New Jersey. And this heart is ground into every curb, park bench, and Mid-Atlantic abandoned factory

I'm not leaving this town
Even though I might not be quite with it
'Cause once you say it's over
It's over no matter where you go to
You've quit, you've lost it
And I'm not sure you'll produce again
'Cause once you say it's over it's over
It's over no matter where you go to

Countrymen, Asbury's spoken, and he was blunt and to the point, but maybe too there for you to get it. Or was it the president who took his words out of context and changed patriotism into jingoism that pulled the waving flag over my fathers eyes. That bastard split this country right down the middle. Those whose countries are on a map, and those whose countries are written down on paper. So which one's the patriot? Which one's the traitor?