Hold the Line in Minnesota (Remastered)

Rowdy Celtic punk march, tin whistle over distorted guitars and pounding floor-tom groove, Male vocals half-sung, half-shouted with gang-chant choruses, big “whoa-oh”s, and stomping boots, Fiddles scrape in the breaks, bass drives like a charging line; final chorus explodes with layered shouts and crash cymbals

[Verse 1] Snow up to the window sills Sirens on the county road Knuckles white on coffee mugs Grandma’s rosary Heavy as stone They knock hard [low vocal register] “open up” Badges bright as winter glare We’ve heard that bark a thousand times We’re done pretending they play fair [Chorus] Hold the line in Minnesota From St. Paul down to Rochester plains They can march here in their armored coats But they won’t drag us out in chains Raise your voice for every neighbor Every name they try to erase Hold the line in Minnesota We decide who leaves this place [Verse 2] Old songs from the Galway side Echo in a South Side bar Stories of the black and tans Taught us what these agents are Phones ring One word: “gather” (hey!) Porch lights blinking code at night Parkas Boots And farmer hands Linked together Ready to fight [Chorus] [Bridge] We’ve buried too many Under flags they never chose We’ve bitten our tongues While the cold wind blows [whispered vocals] But not this time Not this town We stand shoulder to shoulder We won’t bow down [Chorus]

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