Lyrics:

Oh, say
Do you see what I see
Congress sitting here in sweet serenity

I could cheer
The reason's clear
For the first time in a year
Adams isn't here

And look
The sun is in the sky
A breeze is blowing by
And there's not a single fly

I sing Hosanna, Hosanna
(Hosanna, Hosanna)
And it's cool

Come ye cool, cool conservative men
Our like may never ever been seen again
We have land, cash in hand
Self command, future planned
Fortune thrives, society survives
In neatly ordered lives
With well-endowered wives

Come sing
Hosanna, Hosanna
In our breeding and our manner
We are cool

Come ye cool, cool considerate set
We'll dance together to the same minuet
To the right, ever to the right
Never to the left, forever to the right

Let our creed
Be never to exceed
Regulated speed
No matter what the need

Come sing
Hosanna, Hosanna
Emblazoned on our banner
Is 'keep cool'

Hands attach
Tightly latch
Everybody match

Charles Thomson:
I have a new dispatch!

('From the commander, Army of the United Colonies in New York, dispatch number 1,158, to the honourable President John Hancock. Dear sir,
I awoke this morning to find that General Howe has landed 25,000 British regulars and Hessian mercenaries on Staten Island, and that their fleet under the command of his brother Admiral Lord Howe patrols all of the Hudson and East Rivers to New York Harbour, which now looks like all of London afloat. I can no longer in good conscience withhold from the Congress my certainty that the British military object at this time is Philadelphia. Happy would I be if I could see a means of preventing them, but at present I confess that I do not. Oh, how I wish I had never seen the Continental Army. I would have done better to retire to the back country and to live in a wigwam.
Y'r ob'dt, G. Washington')

Conservatives:
What we do
We do rationally

John Dickinson:
We never, ever go off half-cocked
Not we

Conservatives:
Why begin
Till we know that we can win

John Dickinson:
And if we cannot win
Why bother to begin?

Edward Rutledge:
We say this game's not of our choosing
Why should we risk losing?

Conservatives:
We cool, cool men

John Dickinson:
(Mr. Hancock, you're a man of property. One of us. Why don't you join us in our minuet? Why do you persist on dancing with Mr. Adams? Good Lord, sir. You don't even like him.)

John Hancock:
That is true
He annoys me quite a lot
But still, I'd rather trot
To Mr. Adams' new gavotte

John Dickinson:
(But why, sir? For personal glory? For a place in history? Be careful, sir. History will brand Mr. Adams and his followers as traitors.)

John Hancock:
(Traitors, Mr. Dickinson? To what? The British crown? Or the British half-crown? Fortunately, there are not enough men of property in America to dictate policy.)

John Dickinson:
(Well, perhaps not. But don't forget that most men with nothing would rather protect the possibility of becoming rich than face the reality of being poor. And that is why they will follow us)

To the right, ever to the right
Never to the left, forever to the right

Where there's gold
A market that will hold
Tradition that is old
Reluctant to be bold

I sing Hosanna, Hosanna
In a sane and lucid manner
We are cool

We're the cool, cool considerate men
Whose like may never, ever bee seen again
With our land, cash in hand
Self command, future planned

And we'll hold to our gold
Tradition that is old
Reluctant to be bold

We say this game's not of our choosing
Why should we risk losing?

We cool (cool)
Cool (cool)
Cool (cool)
Cool (cool)
Cool (cool)
Cool (cool)

Cool
Cool
Men!