Oil up your shotgun for the time of your life

And tell the wife that you won't be home tonight



Lock up your daughters in the hickory shack

And jump in the back of my pick-up truck, all right



We're gonna go downtown where the action is

We're gonna plug a couple nigger-lovin' communists

We're never ever ever gonna hear from them again



And it's open season, so open fire!

We got shit for brains and guns for hire!



It's a dirty job, but that's the price you have to pay

Here in Lynchtown

Lynchtown, USA!



Call up my uncle, he's the chief of police,

The justice of peace, and the circuit judge besides



We'll round up a couple of the good ol' boys

We gotta make some noise, but let's leave our hoods behind



We gotta show these long-hairs where it's at

With burning crosses and baseball bats

And they'll never ever be seen or heard again



And in Lynchtown, nobody ever sings

They don't know where they were or know what they did

So it's the easiest thing



And it's open season, so open fire!

We got shit for brains and guns for fire!



It's a dirty job, but that's the price you have to pay

Here in Lynchtown

Lynchtown, USA!