[Musical intro]
[Verse 1]
If you drop a frog in a boiling pot,
He'll leap right out cause it's hot.
But warm it slow, and he won't know,
The danger creeping up below.
He’ll stay right there until it's done,
Not sensing danger as it comes.
Fast pain hits, we feel the sting,
But slow pain dulls, a quiet thing.
[Brief instrumental]
[Verse 2]
Until it’s too late, we don't realize,
The danger lurking in disguise.
So take the lesson from the pot,
Slow pain’s a killer, believe it or not.
The United States was like the frog,
English king taxed us hard like a hog.
The colonists sensed the water boiling.
The steep added taxes had them roiling.
[Brief instrumental]
[Verse 3]
Try taxing tea sunk in Boston harbor,
Or taxing paper made by our labor.
Then they command us to lay down our arms.
So... we shot them... to death!
Of the two and half million colonists then,
only three percent was required to win,
and establish our liberty against tyranny.
There's power in numbers, as you can see.
[Chorus]
He’ll sit there calm, not understanding,
While slow pain grows, expanding.
Fast pain's sharp, we know to run,
Slow pain creeps till life's undone.
[Verse 4]
While today we're taxed up to fifty percent,
revolution was fought over tax of five cent.
The crooks in D.C. obviously bent.
Before you earn it, the taxes are spent.
They're spending so fast, there's no way to keep up.
You might as well fight fire with a cup!
All the regulations we have to obey,
Why did we fight the revolution back in the day?
[Brief instrumental]
[Verse 5]
When we think back to the frog in the pot,
We can agree the water's already hot.
What do we want to leave to our kids?
A nation drowning in debt, on the skids?
[Chorus]
He’ll sit there calm, not understanding,
While slow pain grows, expanding.
Fast pain's sharp, we know to run,
Slow pain creeps till life's undone.
[Verse 6]
So when you hear some politico,
Increase the amount of tax we owe,
Shut it down, they spend too fast,
so tell them to kiss your...mmhmmhmm
We need to vote differently,
To preserve our nation's liberty.
Don't let the crooks win,
I don't want to shoot them.
[Instrumental ending]