The Bell of Freedom

I've been to many places. Seen so many things. This is where I'll stay, my friends, Where the bell of freedom rings. But let me tell a story, Of bells in other lands. And how they cracked and crumbled, From the weight of tyranny's hands. Built with truth and honesty, Ringing pure for years. The people were the sovereigns, Their status very clear. But then the tone was changing. A few were quite upset. Understanding government Can be their greatest threat. The servants said, "The tone is off!" "We'll fix it if we can. We'll initiate a bureau To carry out our plan, And tax you just a little more For work that must be done." The timbre slowly getting worse. The process had begun. The people were oblivious To changes being made. The bell was slowly cracking And higher taxes laid. A private corporation Controlled the currency. The gold was taken from them Along with liberty. Soon the people asked for help, They could not stand the weight. The bell was falling swiftly, To be destroyed, it's fate. And they became the servants That swept up the remains, Of the bell that fell on hallowed land And truth that it contains. The thought of being sovereign? For a few, a memory. But most do not remember Of ever being free. They struggle, and the simple things Are now a luxury, And those that pull the puppet's strings, Control their destiny.