Lyrics:

Circa 1992, Hitchens faxed his copy through
As 'Regards Columbus Day'
If you'll permit me the conceit of a posthumous critique
I'll paraphrase:

'My colorful, exotic friend
Respectable, well spoken
Unlike the rest of them
As you know, I'm color-blind and you're a credit to your kind

This silly talk of resurgence, ceremony, communion with
An unconquered natural world
Tell me, where is your gratitude for all we've done for you?
This paradise, Eden, empire, kingdom

This boundless epoch we've bestowed
Upon your savage, empty lands
Well, of course mistakes were made
But as far as human progress goes
Welcome to a slightly higher plane
Of innovation and opportunity
For your trampled communities

The treaties that we broke
The lands that we filched
The settlements put to the torch
The children we abused
All for your own good, of course

It happens to be the way history has been made
Don't go play with a toy gun or change lanes without signalling
Don't comply, don't resist
'Cause it don't make no difference

Comply? Resist?
No difference
Resist? Comply?
You die

The funny names you give your kids
The silly ways you do your hair
The jungle music that you blare
We snicker and we sneer, for they do not revere
The incessant gadgetry we incessantly deploy
To incessantly extract and incessantly destroy

You don't worship us
Oh, why don't you worship us?

Resist? Comply?
You die'