In Lutheran school when I was small
in southern California's hills of suburban sprawl
they took us to the missions so we could see a little piece of our home state's history
Adobe bricks and Spanish names for titles and building styles
white tour guides with nice neat benign smiles
They told us how the Indians worked with the clay and how the fathers taught 'em how to pray
and now I know that what was so sinister is what they didn't say

It was forced labor, their native languages banned
Forced religion and forcibly taken land
Separated families, divine justifications
Junipero Serra, some kind of saint of subjugation

Looking back I wonder if my teachers thought everything was okay
what about their precious Jesus and all that stuff they said he used to say?
They forced us to sing those songs about love and tolerance
well what a load of crap
what a crock of shit.

From the Mexican border to the central state we got these tourist attractions memorializing hate
they use the mission style to build their expensive yuppy condos
It's the new colonies borrowing the look of the old
The missions forced dark skinned folks into labor and religion
Now the KKKalifornia prisons continue the tradition
makin' 'em work and redeem themselves
corporal punishment if they rebel
Separating families, making money off it
Every little need they have turns into someone else's profit

But the truth is the system wants them there
The truth is the system creates the conditions that puts 'em and keeps 'em in there
And the truth is they got the rest of us accepting it by playing on our fear
And the truth is it's been this way for more than 500 years

Thinkin’ back I wonder if my teachers thought it all was okay
what about the high ideals of freedom all that stuff they use to say
They forced us to read all about democracy's supposed justice
Well what a load of crap
what a crock of shit