"God made man, but Samuel Colt made them equal"*

I don't know who said that, nor,
I suppose, do I care.

Looking out across a crowd
Protesting something, I start to care

Sheep, protesting their own rights
Me and John Browning laugh

They'll come for my guns
Ol' Sam Colt will be at my side

I have my friends, those trusted men
Who have built this country

Those who bleed, bled, designed
Died, sacrificed and cried for it

So you occupy, you whine about fair
Ok, but you're not the three percent

Go on and complain
Say it's all privilege

But to take the guns, steal my rights
You'll call the guys with guns

And in the end, to attain your goals
You'll be calling people like me