Police are the standing army the founders warned about

We are wracked from the hardships Exhausted by the years we can still escape this barren misery But even with our shackled wrists we can fight our way through this And we'll power all aboard the ship to total liberty So, row, row you bastards you never can tell The ocean a tempest or the land a stormy hell So, row a litlle harder 'til bloodied on the hand Or the sea she will best us, we'll never see the land