Non-Conformist Marching Song, The


Hold the line, staunch nonconformists,
we’re a sacred rendezvous.
To your breast clutch tightly your list,
things we’re nonconforming to.

Banners high we’ll make demands for changing ev’ry thing we see.
Down with all society stands for.
Spear your mind. It’s a free country.

Better to exist in our private abyss,
than dwell with the socially rotten.
Our abuse never stops,
We must pay off the cops,
or we won’t have abyss to pot in.
Glossy eyed we stand forever
in agreement through and through
nonconforming all together
for the grand red, white and green.

I can see it now, ah yes,
waiting for us just over the horizon,
A land where men, women and others
can walk together hand in hand toward a better tomorrow.
A land where we can all grow bears, (Hooray)
And wear open-toed sandals. (Hooray)
And we’ll let our hair grow long. (Hooray)
And use ‘Hip’ words. (Hip hooray)
And if there’s one guiding creed,
one word that will sum up all we would gladly die for,
I know that word must surely be,
‘Individuality’. (Rah! Rah! Rah!)
Hold the line, staunch non-conformists,
Pay no heed to words of jeer.
To your breast clutch tightly your list,
Things we’re conforming to this year.

Banners high we’ll make demands for changing ev’ry thing we see.
Down with all society stands for.
Spear your mind. It’s a free country.

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