
9/11 conjures up such violent images that Dear Leader and our Congress wants us to forget.
Now that Congress made it law, September 11 is National Service Day - a day we can honor ACORN, the labor unions that keep our nation safe and the volunteers that come forward to link arms and march united to keep the nation in tune with the wishes of the Dear Leader.
The Internationale
You'll all need to learn the words in English:
Verse 1: (sounds better if you stand and raise your clenched fist)
Arise, wretched of the earth
Arise, convicts of hunger
Reason thunders in its crater
This is the eruption of the end
Of the past let us wipe the slate clean
Masses, slaves, arise, arise
The world is about to change its foundation
We are nothing, let us be all
This is the final struggle
Let us group together, and tomorrow
The Internationale
Will be the human race!
Verse 2:
There are no supreme saviours
Neither God, nor Caesar, nor tribune.
Producers, let us save ourselves
Decree the common welfare
So that the thief expires,
So that the spirit be pulled from its prison,
Let us fan the forge ourselves
Strike the iron while it is hot
This is the final struggle
Let us group together, and tomorrow
The Internationale
Will be the human race!
Verse 3:
The state represses and the law cheats
The tax bleeds the unfortunate
No duty is imposed on the rich
'Rights of the poor' is a hollow phrase
Enough languishing in custody
Equality wants other laws:
No rights without obligations, it says,
And as well, no obligations without rights
This is the final struggle
Let us group together, and tomorrow
The Internationale
Will be the human race!
Verse 4:
Hideous in their self-glorification
Kings of the mine and rail
Have they ever done anything other
Than steal work?
Into the coffers of that lot,
What work creates has melted
In demanding that they give it back
The people wants only its due.
This is the final struggle
Let us group together, and tomorrow
The Internationale
Will be the human race!
Verse 5:
The kings make us drunk with their fumes,
Peace among ourselves, war to the tyrants!
Let the armies go on strike,
Stocks in the air, and break ranks
If these cannibals insist
On making heroes of us,
Soon they will know our bullets
Are for our own generals
This is the final struggle
Let us group together, and tomorrow
The Internationale
Will be the human race!
Verse 6:
Labourers, peasants, we are
The great party of workers
The earth belongs only to men
The idle will go reside elsewhere
How much of our flesh they feed on,
But if the ravens and vultures
Disappear one of these days
The sun will always shine
This is the final struggle
Let us group together, and tomorrow
The Internationale
Will be the human race!