[Verse 1] We’ve got a show, a grand ol’ show, A one-way ticket to where? who-knows, Where saints and sinners try their luck, And sing on key for just a buck, There’s preachers, teachers, clowns, and kings, Strummin’ harps with broken dreams! [Chorus] Oh, we’re singin’ ‘bout the high, the lows, The big brass balls, the after shows Oh, we’re marchin’ to the tune of fools, Where saints and sinners swap their rules, With harmonies all bright and bold, And dreams of medals made of gold! [Verse 2] Now bless the judges at the gate, He really is the hand of fate, They score our sins and mark each tone, Like they’re pickin’ birds to bring back home, If we don’t pass, we’ll sing again, Will our singing never end? [Chorus] Oh, we’re singin’ ‘bout the high, the lows, The big brass balls, the after shows Oh, we’re marchin’ to the tune of fools, Where saints and sinners swap their rules, With harmonies all bright and bold, And dreams of medals made of gold! [Verse 3] Now onward, soldiers!—to the fray! Where wars are won by singin’ AYE! If you don’t hit that final note, You’re just cannon fodder, that’s all she wrote! We’ll strut and fret for one brief tune, I know you hope we’ll be ending soon! [Bridge] For it’s the land of stars and stripes, Of holy scrolls and neon lights, And freedom rings, Where Presidents are now kings! (Amen and hallelujah!) [Verse 4] So clap your hands, let’s give a cheer, For we’ve made fools of all things you hold dear! The big parade is just a test, To see who laughs the loudest, best! Raise a toast to folks like us, Who take up your time and make a fuss! [Outro] So may we sing and strut our stuff, And poke the bear, laugh enough, For life’s a show that never ends, Where punchlines land and lines condescend!
