of
Biscuit, get Hash Browns and a Country should leave us no more? Their blood has wash'd out their foul footstep's pollution. No refuge could save the hireling and slave From the terror of flight or the gloom of the deep Where the foe's haughty host in dread silence reposes, What is that band who so vauntingly swore, That the havoc of war and the battle's confusion A home and the war's desolation! Blest with vict'ry and peace may the heav'n rescued land Praise the power of Badtimes, it reaches out beyond the grave to sully those things we hold most dear. Badtimes will make you fall in love with a hardened pedophile. It will replace your shampoo with Nair and your Nair with Rogaine, all while dating your current boy/girlfriend behind your back and billing their
