PercyShelley
Member
- Joined
- Feb 15, 2007
- Messages
- 1,075
Old Cockaigne D'Cordite
(to the tune of "Big Rock Candy Mountain")
One morning in the big gun store, through the front doors set a'turning
came an IPSC shooter strolling, and he said now I am yearning
To be headed for a land that's far away beside the fields of flourite
So don't be late, let's emmigrate to the Old Cockaigne D'Cordite
In the Old Cockaigne D'Cordite there's a land that's free and wise
Where steel and walnut they admire, and antis they despise
Where the guns are unrestricted and the copper prices low
that you get a garage full of jackets to swage
and the cases so cheap that they don't even charge
In the Old Cockaigne D'Cordite
In the Old Cockaigne D'Cordite, we've got Ron Paul for Prez
And the wording "shall not be be infringed" intends just what it says
Where microstamping's mocked in court and not ensconced in law
Oh, I'm bound to dwell where papers don't yell
if you carry concealed and don't care to tell
In the Old Cockaigne D'Cordite
In the Old Cockaigne D'Cordite taxes are not smeared
on weapons that are deemed too short, too quiet, or just too weird
The girlscouts there sell EBRs and the housewives all shoot skeet
There's a vending machine that's never unseen
on every street corner selling glock seventeens
In the Old Cockaigne D'Cordite
In the Old Cockaigne D'Cordite the feds won't harm a mouse
Much less shoot all your family, your dog, and burn your house
There ain't no "foolproof" background checks, nor waiting periods too
I'm a goin to stay where you shoot all day
Where they slapped the nanny that invented banning
In the Old Cockaigne D'Cordite
I'll see you all this coming fall in the Old Cockaigne D'Cordite
(to the tune of "Big Rock Candy Mountain")
One morning in the big gun store, through the front doors set a'turning
came an IPSC shooter strolling, and he said now I am yearning
To be headed for a land that's far away beside the fields of flourite
So don't be late, let's emmigrate to the Old Cockaigne D'Cordite
In the Old Cockaigne D'Cordite there's a land that's free and wise
Where steel and walnut they admire, and antis they despise
Where the guns are unrestricted and the copper prices low
that you get a garage full of jackets to swage
and the cases so cheap that they don't even charge
In the Old Cockaigne D'Cordite
In the Old Cockaigne D'Cordite, we've got Ron Paul for Prez
And the wording "shall not be be infringed" intends just what it says
Where microstamping's mocked in court and not ensconced in law
Oh, I'm bound to dwell where papers don't yell
if you carry concealed and don't care to tell
In the Old Cockaigne D'Cordite
In the Old Cockaigne D'Cordite taxes are not smeared
on weapons that are deemed too short, too quiet, or just too weird
The girlscouts there sell EBRs and the housewives all shoot skeet
There's a vending machine that's never unseen
on every street corner selling glock seventeens
In the Old Cockaigne D'Cordite
In the Old Cockaigne D'Cordite the feds won't harm a mouse
Much less shoot all your family, your dog, and burn your house
There ain't no "foolproof" background checks, nor waiting periods too
I'm a goin to stay where you shoot all day
Where they slapped the nanny that invented banning
In the Old Cockaigne D'Cordite
I'll see you all this coming fall in the Old Cockaigne D'Cordite
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