At midnight in a flaming angry town
I saw my country's flag lying torn upon the ground
I ran in and dodged among the crowd
And scooped it up, and scampered out to safety

And then I took this striped old piece of cloth
And tried my best to wash the garbage off
But I found it had been used to wrapping lies
It smelled and stank and attracted all the flies

While I was feverishly at my task,
I heard a husky voice that seemed to ask
"Do you think you could change me just a bit?
Betsy Ross did her best, but she made a few mistakes

My blue is good, the color of the sky.
The stars are good for ideals, oh, so high
Seven stripes of red are strong to meet all danger
But those white stripes: they, they need some changing

I need also some stripes of deep, rich brown
And some of tan and black, then all around
A border of God's gracious green would look good there
Maybe you should slant the stripes, then I'd not be so square"

I woke and said, "What a ridiculous story
Don't let anybody say I suggested tampering with Old Glory"
But tonight it's near midnight, and in another flaming town
Once again I hear my country's flag lies torn upon the ground

Copyright: Wixen Music Publishing
Writer(s): JOHN F TRUDELL, MARK SHARK